Ties That Bind
by tangledhair
Summary: ABL Sequel. In the aftermath of the war, Harry changes in a way not even his bondmates understand. Death, secrets, and fear hang over the wizarding world, threatening to tear them all apart. HP/DM, HP/SS, HG/RW, HG/LL, HG/RL, LL/VC and OCs in the mix too.
1. The Ministerial Inquisistion

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; no money is being made from this or other stories that I write about these characters, or in this world.

A/N: And now begins the illusive sequel to A Boy, Lost. This is meant to be read after ABL, but I suppose if you're just really impatient, you can go ahead and read this and pretty much figure out what's going on. I'm straying a bit from the set-up of ABL in that this story will be told from multiple points of view, although it will still focus on Harry. Also, this story will contain multiple pairings for multiple people, so please do not think that any pairing that exists at any given time will exist throughout the story. So if you are really attached to any specific pairing, please take this as fair warning that if either or both of those characters are in this story, there is a good chance that either or both of them will wind up shagging or at least snogging someone else.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Ministerial Inquisition" XIXIX

Through their twin bond, Harry knew Ginny was sleeping restlessly at the Burrow. No doubt Harry's emotions were troubling her. He briefly considered blocking them from her so she could get some rest, but they had an unspoken agreement of sorts to never close their link more than was necessary. So far, 'necessary' usually meant 'while Harry is shagging his boyfriend.' It was awkward for them both whenever Ginny shared in that particular experience.

Ginny had blocked the link once when she was having cramps, but Harry had protested, preferring to have cramps himself, than to be distanced from his twin. Harry had blocked their link once to wallow in the memory of the hideousness of the Final Battle, but Ginny had protested, saying that they especially needed to be close at times when they were feeling down.

Sitting in his room at Number 12 Gimmauld Place, Harry told himself again what he and Ginny often told themselves when it came to their bond—they kept it so open in order to watch each other's backs, so to speak. And truth be told, they did still worry about each other even though the two of them were quite possibly the safest witch and wizard on Earth at this point. But the fact of the matter was, they clung to each other through the bond as a constant source of reassurance that they were both still alive and well.

So Harry kept their bond open and tapped his fingers on the desk. He was nervous about beginning the Ministerial proceedings, but he was far more anxious to get them over with. It was for this reason alone that he had been awake since 4:00, and ready to leave since 4:30.

Harry's hearing wasn't until this afternoon at 2:00. The Ministry had surely decided that was a good time because he should be able to finish his account of what happened during the Final Battle Against You-Know-Who just in time for the evening edition of the Daily Prophet.

Harry had sighed darkly when he received the owl that asked him to come and give his testimony. They were "offering him an opportunity to share the story of the amazing events" or some such nonsense. The last thing Harry wanted to do was to share something so horrific with a roomful of gawking witches and wizards. He didn't want to talk about it at all. And he hated the way that they made it sound like he actually had a choice in the matter, when he knew he was only a hair's breadth away from being called to trial for using an Unforgivable. He wouldn't be convicted, of course. It would all be for show. But one way or another, they were going to get Harry's story from him.

Harry began to pace, thinking that it might make the time pass faster than simply drumming his fingers.

There had been several eyewitness accounts of how Harry had cast the Killing Curse in the end, but only a very few people knew the extent of what Harry had had to do in order to destroy Voldemort completely. Only a very few people knew what Harry actually was. He wondered if there would be any way to get around speaking the whole truth today. He somehow doubted it.

But what worried him more than his hearing this afternoon was Severus Snape's trial at 8:30am. It was an actual trial, with witnesses and presiding judges and everything. There had been no move to arrest the Potions Master for the charges posed against him of being a Death Eater. He had been allowed to finish out the school year at Hogwarts—teaching children. And yet, someone had had the audacity to still bring formal charges against him, and drag him through a trial. This had the potential to be far worse than Harry's non-trail hearing.

Severus had told Harry that he didn't have to come. He said Dumbledore would take care of everything and Severus would rather that Harry spend the time preparing himself for his own ordeal in the afternoon. Harry had stated very matter-of-factly that that was why he wanted to go—for research purposes to prepare himself for his own ordeal. Severus had dropped the argument after that, even though he knew better than to believe such a clearly fabricated reason.

Harry paused in front of the full-length mirror on his closet door (a gift from Draco). He had trouble recognizing himself sometimes. His hair was still short, although it was looking more on the messy side, and less on the spiky side, lately. He had new glasses, but they looked the same as his old ones, save for the eyes behind them. They were older, wiser. His lightening bolt scar was still one of his most prominent features. He had grown a bit over the past year, but was still on the shorter side of medium height, with a thin Seeker's build. Harry had always looked like this, more or less. But still, he looked so alien to himself. He looked so… unlike Severus.

Harry sat himself back at his desk and once again began tapping his fingers. The pacing hadn't really worked. The one hand on his clock still read, "Go back to bed."

At 6:15, he headed downstairs to make some tea, but found that Remus Lupin was already sitting in the kitchen nursing a cup. Remus had put on a little weight over the past year, so that he didn't look so worn and haggard. He also had some newer clothes than the raggedy ones he used to wear. Harry suspected that Sirius had left a chunk of money for his friend, but he never asked. He and Remus never talked about Sirius Black if they could help it.

Sirius' name had been quietly, but officially, cleared shortly after the Final Battle. Ministry officials could no longer dispute his innocence of having killed Peter Pettigrew once the rat's body was found on the battlefield fifteen and a half years after his supposed murder. In the end, Wormtail's traitorous and cowardly devotion to Voldemort had cost him his life, but had returned some honor (as well as a considerable fortune) to Sirius Black's name. Harry had officially inherited 12 Grimmauld Place and a good amount of money, but he would trade it all and everything else he had in a heartbeat if he could get his godfather back.

"Can't sleep either?" asked Remus as he stood up to prepare Harry's tea.

"No," said Harry softly. He slid into the seat across the table and smiled faintly as Remus served him. Remus always made the best tea.

"How long did it last, last time?" asked Harry once Remus had resettled himself at the table.

"How long did what last?"

"The 'Ministerial Inquisition'," answered Harry dryly.

Remus smiled and shook his head once at Harry's choice of title for the Death Eater Trials. "Too long," he said. "A few years, I suppose." He sipped his cup. "Really, I don't know if it's actually worse this time, or if my tolerance has just waned over the years for all this overboard, paranoid bullshit."

Harry shrugged and said, "I don't remember them being this bad, but then, last time it wasn't an election year when it all started."

Remus narrowed his eyes at him for a moment in confusion, but then realized that Harry was thinking back through Severus' memories. It was hard sometimes to remember how much older Harry's mind was than his nearly seventeen-year-old body. His bond with Severus stemmed from an accident in their Legilimency lessons, and Harry now remembered both his own life, and that of Severus Snape.

"But then again," continued Harry, "Severus did kind of bury himself in his Potions Master's studies after he was cleared last time. He purposefully didn't pay attention to the trials."

Remus nodded. "I remember he disappeared for quite some time. I didn't hear about him again until Albus hired him. It was as though he didn't want to be around to see what the intelligence he had gathered accomplished."

Harry made a face. "He didn't want to see what it failed to accomplish. Lucius went free. They didn't even call the LeStranges to trial until after the Longbottoms…" Harry furrowed his brow as he trailed off in thought. Was the Ministry trying to overcompensate now for failures of the past? And would Severus have to pay now for mistakes made by others a generation ago?

They sat in a pensive silence for some time before Harry said without hope, "Maybe we won't have to testify under veritaserum."

Remus looked up. "You won't have to, Harry. No one would even think of subjecting you to that."

Harry's eyes darkened as he caught what Remus meant. "I was referring to Severus and I, but you mean that you'll have to take it," he said flatly.

"Yes," said Remus, sipping his tea again and trying to sound casual, "I suppose I will."

"It's not your trial, though," argued Harry, who still wanted to believe that some amount of fairness still existed.

"Harry," he said reasonably, "I'm a werewolf. You know there's still a lot of discrimination in the Ministry against people in my position. They'll find a way to get me under veritaserum, just in case they can figure out a way to link one more half-breed," he spat out the word, "with Voldemort."

Harry said nothing. He hadn't yet told Remus about what he was, what he had become thanks to the bond Voldemort created with him when the madman had failed to murder him as a baby. Now would be a good time, but Harry just couldn't bring himself to speak the words.

Silence settled upon them again. Remus refilled their cups. "Is Ginny coming?" he asked eventually.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Actually she's already up. Do you mind if she comes by?"

"Not at all."

"Good, because she's on her way."

Just then, there was a rushing sound in the other room, and a hard step on the floor as Ginny maintained her balance stepping out of the fireplace. She was coughing and hacking from the dust of her travels as she walked into the kitchen. Harry jumped up to hug her hello.

Ginny had her long red hair pulled into a single braid, which trailed halfway down her back. She was as tall as Harry, and would probably wind up taller. But she wasn't lanky like her brother Ron. She had a purpose about her movements, which gave her an air of power and charisma. Add to that her infectious Weasley grin, and it was no wonder that half the school would follow her to the ends of the Earth, even the way she looked right now, covered in soot. Harry helped her dust off her robes.

"I guess I need to clean out the floo, huh?" said Remus by way of greeting. "My housekeeping skills are only about on par with Kreacher."

"Ew," said Ginny as she slid down into the chair next to Harry. "That's pretty bad, Remus. This place was awful when we first got here. Please," she begged dramatically, "Please don't let it get back to that state."

Remus grinned. "No, see, that was your opening to tell me how wonderful the place looks, and that the floo really isn't that dirty."

Ginny began to examine her nails and whistle, pretending she hadn't heard him.

"Keep it up," he said. "No tea for you."

"Oh Remus!" she gushed. "The house is gorgeous! Everything's so clean… especially the tea cups, I see. And the kettle… sparkly."

"Knock it off," said Remus. "Would you like some tea, then?"

Ginny batted her eyes innocently. "Why, that would be lovely. Thank you." She leaned her head over on Harry's shoulder. "You know," she said, "Not that you need it of course, but Dobby was hinting that he wouldn't mind coming to work here if you're interested."

Harry turned his head to glare down at her.

"Oh?" said Remus over his shoulder. "What did he say?"

Ginny looked to Harry to tell the story. Harry sighed. "He said that he loves Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore, sir." Ginny giggled at Harry's monotone imitation of Dobby's titling of everyone. "And that he wishes that I could stay there forever, but he knows that I have a house on Gimmauld Place that would need very much cleaning and any House Elf would be lucky for that job, whether they were free or not, and that if Dobby had that job he would even work for free again… and he went on for like half an hour about it."

Ginny was still laughing. "I finally had to pry Harry away from him. We were about to miss the train."

"Sounds like he just wants to stay with you, Harry," said Remus.

Harry agreed. "Well that's not going to happen here," he muttered.

"It's your house."

Harry shook his head. "I'm just visiting you here. Hogwarts is my home for now, and after that… who knows?"

Remus looked like he was setting himself for another argument about the house, but Harry didn't feel like getting into again just now. He wanted to sign the house over to Remus, but Remus wouldn't let him, arguing that it was his inheritance and that he might feel differently about it someday. Harry rather thought that he wouldn't. So just as Remus opened his mouth, Harry changed the subject.

"Ginny, you're still tired. Why are you up so early?"

Ginny shrugged unconcernedly. "Too much noise in my head," she said playfully. "You think too much."

"Sorry," said Harry. "I was—" she cut him off before he said 'going to block the bond.'

"I'm glad you didn't. I couldn't have—" he cut her off before she said, 'slept right if you had.'

"I know," he said. "I didn't."

"Thanks."

Remus watched them idly. It was only a week into summer vacation, but by now he was already used to the twins' conversations. They very often didn't finish sentences with each other, although they were usually polite enough to speak in English rather than their twin language.

"Anyway," Ginny looked up brightly. "How are we going this morning? Should we step out the front door to take the Knight Bus and get swamped by however many hundreds of adoring fans are waiting outside, or should we queue up to floo in and be swamped by fans while we stumble into the Ministry Atrium?"

Harry was suddenly reminded of his last visit to the Ministry on the night that his godfather died. He had flashbacks fairly often of the worst events of his life. He and Ginny figured that such flashbacks had something to do with his 'encounter with the Dementor,' as they referred to it, on the night of the Final Battle. It could also do with the fact that he had one hell of a lot of bad memories for a seventeen-year-old. He and Ginny had decided not to worry about his flashbacks unless they became a problem.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand. Harry looked up and said simply, "I don't want to go back there."

"Well then," she reasoned, "We should take the floo in."

Harry gave her a weird look. "Ginny, that doesn't make any sense."

"Okay, okay…" she groaned. "The truth is that I just remembered about Stan, that pimply guy on the Knight Bus. He always flirts with me, and he's so strange."

Harry smiled. Ginny really did have a way about lifting his spirits.

XIXIX

At 8:00, they queued up to floo into the Ministry Atrium, and actually didn't have to wait too long before they could go through. Remus insisted on going first to make sure that everything was fine on the other side. Harry insisted on going second, because he didn't want people to think that he was such a superstar that he needed 'his people' to go before him and get everything ready for him. He didn't need to say this aloud of course. Ginny understood, and teased him about it through their link so that Remus wouldn't hear.

Harry remembered to keep his elbows tucked, but he hadn't yet gotten a hang of not falling as he exited a floo. Luckily for him, Remus had gotten a hang of catching him, and swiftly pulled him to his feet. Ginny stepped out a moment later, once again stepping hard, but maintaining her balance. She flashed a grin at Harry, but then the smile dropped from her face.

'Great,' thought Harry. 'Here it comes.'

He turned to find that a crowd was swarming toward them. Ginny hadn't been exaggerating when she joked about their masses of fans. Wherever Ginny and Harry were, so were there people. Lots of people. Adoring people who wanted to touch them, and get autographs, and become their friends, and share stories, and take pictures.

Of course, these fans were the reason that Harry and Ginny were currently the two safest people on Earth. If anyone made any move to harm them, their adoring fans would turn into rabid fans, who would gladly rip the offending party limb from limb with their bare hands.

All the same, it was hard for Harry to always be surrounded by so many people. He didn't know if he was relieved or annoyed when he saw that Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge was among them. He would pull Harry out of the crowds, but not until after a good photo op. Fudge rushed toward him, his face plastered with his huge politician smile.

"Harry Potter! By Merlin, what an honor to have you here at such an early hour!" He took hold of Harry's hand and yanked him around so they stood next to each other like old friends. Several bright flashes signified that there were reporters handy to capture the moment. Harry rolled his eyes without meaning to, and several people in the crowd laughed appreciatively. He suddenly felt like the cute newborn on display with everyone oohing and ahhing over his every slightest move.

"Now, Harry," continued Fudge gushingly, "You absolutely must allow me to escort you to my office where you can spend the day with myself and other top Ministry officials…" He attempted to lead Harry toward the elevators, but Harry stood firm.

"No thank you, sir," he said in a carefully powerful, but steady, tone. "I'm here for this morning's trial."

Fudge's smile flickered for only an instant. "Nonsense, Harry. You aren't on trial. The wizarding world merely wants to hear your testimony of the events of…"

"Professor Snape's trial," he cut in. "The professor was invaluable in preparing me for the Final Battle. I will miss his trial under no circumstances."

Several flashbulbs went off, and Harry saw more than one reporter frantically watching a Quick Quotes Quill. 'Good,' he thought. 'If public opinion is behind him there is a much smaller chance he'll be prosecuted.'

"Well I believe," said Fudge with a smile, "That Severus Snape has asked that his students not attend his trial."

Harry rather doubted that. While Severus may not particularly want his students to see him on trial, he would never bother to make that stipulation. He would find details like that to be a useless vanity when compared to the much larger consequences of the trial. Harry opened his mouth to say as much, but Fudge cut him off.

"And I was also hoping that you would attend this morning's press conference." He turned to the press and winked. "We've got quite a surprise for you this morning…" he said with over-exaggerated suggestion.

The ever-growing crowd laughed appreciatively, and Harry felt a budding dread inside him. With all his worries about the Ministerial Inquisition, he had forgotten all about this press conference. The press was speculating that they were going to declare May 9th, the day of the Final Battle, "Harry Potter Day."

Harry willed himself not to slap his hand to his forehead, and instead replied calmly, but firmly, "Thank you, sir, but no. I really must show support to my professor and friend. It is the very least I can do for him, after all that he has done for me."

Fudge opened his mouth to protest, but a murmuring spread through the crowd. Through their bond, Harry could tell that Severus had just arrived through the floo. Harry turned to peer over the Minister's shoulder. Fudge turned as well to see what all the commotion was, and looked less than pleased when he saw Severus Snape coming toward them through the crowd.

'Sev, help!' thought Harry dramatically through the link. 'They're trying to name a day after me.'

Severus cast a glare at him through the crowd, clearly, to Harry at least, trying to keep from laughing. Harry relaxed a little. If Severus was calm enough to recognized Harry's attempts at humor, then maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Oh, here comes the professor now," said Harry to Fudge.

Fudge cleared his throat significantly, and one of his aides immediately jumped forward. "Minister Fudge, sir," said the young woman importantly, consulting a clipboard. "You have a meeting in two minutes; we really must be on our way."

"Thank you, Glenda," said Fudge, all business once again. He turned to Harry. "Duty calls, I'm afraid. But I'll be in touch." He was then swept away in a flurry of media, political aides, and photographs, just before Severus arrived at the scene.

Severus was quite striking today. He was tall and lean, with pale skin and dark hair. Dressed in formal black business robes, he most definitely stood out as a rather imposing figure in the Ministry Atrium. On impulse, Remus put his hand protectively on Harry's shoulder. Remus was doing better, but he had not yet gotten completely over his shock and displeasure from learning of Harry and Severus' bond.

Beside Severus was Draco Malfoy, wearing pale blue business dress robes and a calculating Malfoy expression on his face. Harry smiled to himself about that. Draco had been pretty well shaken up by the events of the Final Battle. It had taken a couple of months for his boyfriend to get more or less back to his old self. He was still a bit on the introverted side, and was caught up in somewhat of an identity crisis—what with the Malfoy name being mud, and Draco having been written out of his inheritance. But his wit had reappeared at the end of the school year, and judging by the expression on his face, his cunning was back as well. Harry knew that that look meant there was something Draco wanted that he was determined to get.

Harry stepped forward to greet the two men. He leaned close to Draco and whispered, "What are you up to?"

Draco raised an eyebrow and said neutrally, "I swear I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about."

Harry cut him a look. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Trust issues, clearly," said Draco knowledgeably. "You might want to talk to someone about that.

Harry grinned and someone flashed a photograph, unpleasantly reminding him where he was. Ginny and Severus, who had both been talking with Remus, looked up with concern when they felt the sudden shift in Harry's mood. But it was nothing, really.

"It's almost time," said Severus calmly. "We ought to check our wands and head to the proceedings."

XIXIX

The dungeon courtroom was even larger and more cavernous than Harry remembered, but one thing remained the same—the large draconian chair that sat front center, complete with huge metal chains and restraints for the hands and feet of the person on trial. Harry couldn't look at it. He didn't want to think about Severus sitting there, locked in place like an animal.

"There are worse things to be than an animal," said Severus in low tones over Harry's shoulder.

"Like what?" asked Harry, looking back to him.

"Like guilty," said Severus. "Which I am not, so everything will surely turn out just fine in the end."

"Oh, you believe the verdict really depends on your innocence, do you?" asked Harry.

"Not really," said the Potions Master, as they walked forward. "I'm just trying to maintain my positive role-model image."

Harry and Draco both smirked at the sarcasm. Then Ginny leaned over and said, "Speaking of role models, I hear they're going to make 'Prince Severus Snape' books next."

Harry and Severus both coughed out laughter. Ginny grinned her triumph. She could usually get a laugh out of Harry, but had not yet succeeded with her Potions Professor. Remus and Draco watched with baffled expressions as Severus quickly pulled himself together. They were both unaware of the 'Prince Harry Potter' books that Ginny had read as a little girl.

Draco's eyes flashed with jealousy at whatever inside joke Harry was sharing with his two bondmates. "Humor," he sighed pointedly. "The last refuge of a scoundrel."

Harry shot him an annoyed look for that jab at Severus, but simply said, "I think you mean prayer."

Draco shrugged. "Whatever."

If Severus was bothered by that interaction, he didn't let on, not even through his bond with Harry. He simply strode forth to the front of the room and took a seat in the first row of chairs that was set up for the audience made up of the witnesses, the media, and the merely curious.

Draco filed into the seat next to Severus, followed by Harry, then Ginny, then Remus. Only a few scattered witches and wizards were in the room yet, and no one that Harry recognized.

"Where are Nicolas and Perenelle?" asked Harry, to no one in particular. "They're always early."

Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel had both helped to train Harry last year in wandless spellcasting and in controlling his Legilimency with Voldemort. Perenelle especially had worked closely with Severus in Harry's training, before the Flamels left on a tour of the world in search of foreign allies in the war.

"They've been banned from the proceedings," said Severus.

"What?!" hissed Harry in outrage. "But they'd be better character witnesses than anyone," he protested.

"They would also have an effect on the presiding judges, with their 'sweeter emotions'," Severus replied neutrally.

"You mean they'd be too influential against your prosecution seeing as how they recruited half the world to join the fight against Voldemort," said Harry.

"That too." The Potion's Master's face was hard, but otherwise without expression.

"And I suppose Dumbledore cannot testify since it would be a conflict of interests, what with him leading the Wizengamot."

"Correct," said Severus. "Which is why he has suspended himself from the Wizengamot in order to represent me."

Harry glanced around room, which was steadily filling up. "Then where is he?"

"Oh, you know how he likes to make an entrance," drawled Draco.

Harry nodded, acknowledging the point. He noticed, as witches and wizards continued to file into the courtroom, that he now recognized many of them from the Order of the Phoenix. Also, Hogwarts teachers began to arrive, and then Slytherin students and some of their families. Word had apparently gotten around that the Ministry would likely want to make an example of Severus Snape, and everyone had met the call remarkably with an outpouring of support. With several minutes to go before the scheduled time of trial, already there was standing room only, and still people came.

'Mad-Eye Moody is here,' thought Harry to Severus. 'I thought he hated you.'

'He does,' Severus thought in return. 'But we work well together regardless. He is one of the few people who understood the lengths to which the Death Eaters would go to accomplish their purposes. He has already spent a good deal of time trying to get the charges against me dropped.'

"Well, what do you know?" mused Harry aloud.

"What do you mean?" asked Draco.

"Moody came out to support Severus." He motioned over his shoulder to where Mad-Eye Moody stood with his back to the wall.

Draco scowled at him. "No doubt that crackpot is just here to escort the Professor to Azkaban after the trial."

Harry narrowed his eyes and wondered if his boyfriend was still sore at Moody because his imposter had transfigured Draco into a ferret in fourth year. He was about to ask when Ginny nudged him sharply and thought to him, 'Offensive question—not a good time.'

Harry accepted her wise counsel and remained silent. Ginny wasn't exactly an expert on relationships, having never dated anyone for very long, but she did know people. And her advice had helped Harry enormously in navigating his relationship with Draco. He had long ago learned to listen to what she said.

Just then, the doors in the back of the room opened and a hush filled the room, followed immediately by an excited murmur. Albus Dumbledore had arrived. Harry was amazed at how relieved he felt at that moment. He was also amazed that a room full of Order members and Hogwarts teachers and students would be so excited to see such a familiar face. He supposed that Dumbledore simply offered people a feeling of stability in uncertain situations.

The crowd parted in tides as the pleased-looking Headmaster made his way forward. When he reached the seat on the opposite side of Severus than where Draco sat, he pulled out his wand and transfigured the sturdy brown wood into squashy purple plush and sat down contentedly, his eyes twinkling.

"Severus, my boy," he said with a smile, "I'm afraid it looks as though only about half of your witnesses have arrived yet. But I am sure that the ones further down the list will be here in plenty of time before they are called to testify."

Severus turned to the headmaster impassively and clarified, "Am I to assume that you have asked everyone in this room to testify on my behalf?"

"Oh no!" said Dumbledore, his eyes alight. "I left Harry off the witness list. I figured he had enough to worry about what with having his own hearing this afternoon."

Ginny laughed aloud as she turned around to look at the many dozens of witches and wizards filling the courtroom. If this was only half, Dumbledore's witness list must have been at least two hundred long, maybe three. This was a high-profile case. There was no way the Professor would be convicted of being a Death Eater with so many people willing and able to testify on his behalf.

The Wizengamot entered, and Harry groaned to realize that the prosecuting witch was Delores Umbridge. But even as seriously as she tried to make everything, the trial quickly became somewhat of a joke as witch after wizard came forth and repeated over and over that Severus Snape was a spy and not a real Death Eater. Umbridge had testimony from other Death Eaters that Severus was a servant of the Dark Lord, but Dumbledore was adamant that he had used that position, at great risk to himself, to gather intelligence for both the Order and the Ministry (submitted anonymously). And of course, the Death Eaters' attempts to kill him at Hogwarts after he quit his service of Death Eater Spy had been highly publicized. Severus had been on the top of Death Eater hit lists once it was discovered that he was a traitor to Voldemort.

After the first dozen and a half witnesses, an old witch with brilliant silver hair leaned forward and said softly, "Delores, Albus, might we just assume that all two hundred and eighty-seven witnesses will vouch for Professor Snape's innocence?"

"That is why they are here," agreed Dumbledore with a smile.

Umbridge looked less convinced. "Madam McWhortle, surely you have looked over this obscene list of character witnesses. They range from lunatics to drunks to werewolves. It will certainly be necessary to establish the character of each one individually…"

"We are not here to establish their character, Delores," sighed the elderly witch. "We are here to establish the guilt or innocence of Severus Snape. I, for one, believe we should drop all charges as we do not even have a clear accusation of his having been a Death Eater by anyone other than former Death Eaters who have very publicly tried to kill him."

The other presiding witches and wizards nodded their heads in agreement. "Quite right, Bonnie," said a portly wizard. "This trial is a mockery of our justice system. There are many, many others out there whose innocence is far more questionable. Severus Snape may not seem a friendly fellow, but he is very clearly a respected member of our wizarding world."

"Severus Snape was a Death Eater!" squeaked Umbridge. "Numerous accounts have said as much."

"And Albus Dumbledore," continued Bonnie McWhortle pointedly, "Has testified numerous times that he was working undercover, and there is not a witch or wizard in this world who could seriously and reasonably dispute the word of Albus Dumbledore."

Umbridge opened her mouth to argue, but the portly wizard called out, "Here, here!" Umbridge huffed, but he continued regardless, "All in favor of dropping all charges?"

The call of "Aye" was nearly unanimous, excepting only Umbridge.

The portly wizard nodded and declared. "It is then decided. I motion we break for an early lunch."

"Motion seconded," called out McWhortle as the room broke out into applause. Umbridge stormed out, her face red and grimacing.

Severus stood tall in the midst of the cheers and reached out his hand to shake Dumbledore's hand officiously. But Dumbledore would have none of that. He pulled Severus into a hug, patting him happily on the back. Severus allowed it, and even hugged him back, much to everyone else's surprise. But then he made a point to glare at the swarming well-wishers as though daring anyone else to try it. No one did. What followed were forty-five minutes of handshakes and polite words of congratulations, during which time Draco pulled Harry away and out of the courtroom.

"Thank Merlin that's over," sighed Harry, leaning casually against the wall in the hallway.

Draco shrugged. "You didn't really think that Dumbledore would allow Severus to be taken to Azkaban, did you?"

"Well…" Harry paused. "I hoped not, at any rate."

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore may be crazy, but he's not stupid. And he's as loyal to his followers as they are to him."

Harry shivered. "Dumbledore doesn't have followers," he said, thinking of the clear distinction between the people who worked with the headmaster and the people who were subservient to the Dark Lord.

"Sure he does," said Draco easily. "Hopelessly devoted followers. You saw how people came together when he asked."

"Asked. Not demanded. Not ordered."

"Whatever. I never realized it before I went to live with him, but Severus is completely devoted to the man. Why else would he have put himself in so much danger for so many years?"

Harry remained silent, thinking over his memories of Severus' life. There were a lot of reasons, actually. But devotion certainly was one of them. But Severus was so devoted to Dumbledore because Dumbledore had never once let him down. Not in any way that mattered. Not in anything that was at all important. And even the little things all had very good reasons behind them.

"Yeah, I suppose Dumbledore is rather loyal," mused Harry.

Malfoy nodded. "Anyway, I knew you were probably stressed out about the trial, so I wanted to wait until afterwards for this…"

Harry thought back to the calculating look in Draco's eyes this morning. He should have known there was a surprise in store for him. He lips parted in a shy smile and he waited.

"How does a vacation sound to you?" Harry narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion. "Some time away from everyone? I know how much you hate being in the limelight, so how would you like to get away from the rest of the world for a little while?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Severus owns some property in Figueres, Spain. He said I could take you there after all this is over. We could leave tonight if you wanted. Just you and me."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "For how long?" he asked, hoping he was keeping his voice neutral.

"I don't know… a week, a month… all summer. However long you like."

Harry's mouth went dry. A week without Ginny. A summer without Ginny. He could feel the darkness again—the loathsome feeling of the Dementor. It was pulling him downward and Harry remembered the pain beyond pain as Ginny was held under the Cruciatus Curse. He remembered the half-person hell he felt as he blocked his link with her completely, cutting her off from him in a way that shouldn't be possible.

"Harry!" Ginny was running forward. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you." She was looking at him searchingly, probing him through their bond to make sure he was okay, but trying to hide her concern from Malfoy. Harry didn't want anyone to know about his flashbacks. He didn't want Draco to worry.

"I'm right here," he said calmly. "What's up?"

"Oh, um…" Ginny glanced briefly at Malfoy, who was frowning slightly but didn't seem to get what exactly had just happened. "My family's here, and Hermione. They were in the two hundred-thirties on the witness list, but I think we're all going to go back to the Burrow for brunch. You wanna come, Malfoy?"

"Actually," he began pointedly, "Harry and I were just…"

"Come on," said Harry eagerly, not wanting to continue their previous conversation at this time. "We'll invite Severus. You haven't been to the Burrow yet. And you promised you'd come."

Draco looked into Harry's pleading eyes and sighed. "All right," he said.

A moment later, Severus stepped up, his quick eyes darting around for signs of trouble or distress. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at Harry.

"Oh, Professor, good. You're here." Ginny turned and gave him a significant look that said Harry was fine and not to say anything right now. "Would you like to come to the Burrow for a celebratory brunch?"

Severus paused. Then he nodded his head formally and said, "That would be acceptable."

XIXIX

At the Burrow, Molly Weasley made a point of getting Harry away from Remus so that she could insist he come to stay with the Weasleys for the remainder of the summer. She had started up a conversation with Remus and Severus about Remus' Wolfsbane, which had perked Hermione's interest. As soon as Molly saw that Hermione was grilling the two of them intently for information, she pulled Harry into the kitchen.

"Now, you've got a very nice house over there," she said, talking to Harry while she orchestrated the cooking of brunch for a dozen people. "And I know that Remus takes very good care of you and that he means well, but really, Harry dear. You should come and spend some time with your family."

Harry opened his mouth, but Molly continued, intent that his next word would be an agreement and that he would not speak until he was fully convinced.

"I mean, you and Ginny really ought to be closer—you spend so much time together anyway. I can't even keep track of her anymore—she's gone through the floo most days as soon as she's up, as though eight hours of sleeping is just too long to spend away from her twin. And you and Ron are like brothers—you've been friends so long—and the house is so quiet since Fred and George got their apartment in London…"

"What's going on in here?" asked Remus suspiciously, sticking his head through the door to the kitchen.

"Nothing at all, Remus dear," said Molly, flashing a grin. "Would you care to put some tea on?"

Remus cut a look to Harry, who smiled up at him, before turning back to Molly. She was trying to maintain an innocent look, but Remus wasn't fooled.

"Now Molly," he began as though reprimanding a small child. "We agreed that I get 'custody' of Harry for the first half of the summer." Harry had gathered several parental figures over the years, and they oftentimes argued good-naturedly over who got to act as parent when.

Molly laughed and swatted him with an oven mitt. "I just hate for him to be so far away, is all!"

"He's over here every day! How much closer do you need him to be?"

"In Fred and George's old room…"

Harry decided to leave the two to duke it out amongst themselves. He slid out of the chair Molly had placed him in and headed out of the kitchen to see what was going on in the rest of the house.

Hermione was still talking animatedly with Severus about the theory and practice of brewing Wolfsbane. Hermione absorbed knowledge like a sponge, and was always excited about any bit she could get. In class, Severus had always acted as if this annoyed him to no end, but in the living room of the Burrow, Harry could see what pleasure he took in teaching an eager student.

Hermione had her hair pulled back out of her face. She nodded regularly, her intense eyes focused on her professor as though nothing else existed. Her slender frame was poised at attention. Her back was to her boyfriend, who sat across the room with his father.

Arthur Weasley had enlisted his son Ron's help in figuring out a way to elevate the whole house without damaging any of the structure or interior. A couple of Tremor Moles had apparently decided to nest and lay eggs underneath the foundation of the house, which was fine except for the fact that when the eggs hatched the resulting earthquakes could potentially be powerful enough to bring the whole house down. Already, random rumblings had resulted in some broken lamps and dishes, not to mention a bit of a fright.

Fred and George had offered to "take care of the problem", but Arthur had insisted that he and Ron would be able to lift the house and relocate the Tremor Mole family before things got too explosive. Harry had bought Arthur's reasoning that Ron's amazing strategizing skills would allow for a more humane solution than whatever Fred and George had in mind, but then Ginny mentioned how it was nice to see her brother in the land of the living again, and Harry realized that Arthur was using the Tremor Moles as an excuse to spend some quality time with his son, who had pulled into himself after the Final Battle.

Harry felt through his link that Ginny was upstairs talking with Bill and Charlie. He headed out back to see where Fred and George had disappeared to with his boyfriend. In the back yard, the twins were huddled close with Draco, whispering excitedly. Harry had a bad feeling about that. Whenever the twins were excited, trouble would surely follow. But he never got a chance to find out what they were up to because their conversation broke off as he approached. And before he could pry, Molly was calling that it was time to eat.

The dining room, and dining room table, had been magically expanded to seat twelve, but only eleven appeared. "Where's Bill?" asked Molly as everyone settled.

A wonder flitted through Harry's head briefly that Molly could pick out the one missing person out of so many so quickly.

"He had to go," said Charlie, not quite casually. Harry looked over to Ginny, who was looking away from everyone, and he understood immediately.

Bill wasn't doing so well either. He had lost his fiancé, Fleur Delacour, during the war, and was having a hard time dealing with his loss. Harry had heard stories of the bond between Veela and their mates, and he wondered if the stories held true for quarter-Veela, and he wondered if Bill had been her mate. But those were things one just doesn't ask. Harry shielded the thoughts from Ginny so she wouldn't feel like she had to explain.

"Well that's a shame," said Molly, also not quite casually. "Eat up, everybody."

As conversations started up, Draco leaned over to Harry and asked again about the vacation. Harry suggested that they talk about it later, and then asked Remus if he and Molly had yet worked out the details of his life, trying to indicate to Draco that where he spent the summer was out of his hands. He knew Draco wouldn't buy it, but it might help him to delay for a while the inevitable conversation that they needed to have about how much Harry relied on his bondmates at this point in his life. Draco would not be happy, but Harry couldn't help that.

XIXIX

Molly insisted that everyone come back for dinner just before the brunch party broke up. Harry, Ginny, and Remus made their way back to the Ministry for Harry's 2:00 hearing, and Draco and Severus made their way back to Snape Manor, promising to return for dinner.

Harry's testimony was on the fourth floor in a much smaller room than the dungeon that had held Severus' trial. It was a closed hearing, so Ginny and Remus were not allowed to come inside with him. They waited in the Ministry Atrium. As Harry walked through the door, he only prayed that this would be quick and painless.

As he left, he sighed to himself because the hearing had indeed been quick and painless. He made his way to the Ministry Atrium where Ginny bounded toward him, flinging her arms around him.

"Why did you close your link?" she demanded. "What the hell happened in there?!"

"They asked a few questions, and that was it," replied Harry automatically. He hadn't expected Ginny's agitation.

"It must have been more than a few questions," said Remus wearily. "It's been four hours."

Harry checked his watch. It read, "Time for dinner."

"Oh," he said. "It didn't seem that long. It was actually a pretty easy time."

They know what I am.

Ginny startled and looked at him hard. "What was that?"

Harry blinked at her. "What was what?"

"There was… something. Almost like a thought, but I didn't quite catch it."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Come on, let's go."

Ginny's arm was snaked around Harry's back as they headed to the fireplaces, and Harry flung his arm around her shoulder. When the reached the floo, he found himself unwilling to let her go. He felt a mild panic in his chest like something terrible would happen if they stepped apart, even for a moment to floo to the Burrow.

Ginny looked at him. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he said. He took his arm back and stepped into the first fireplace, and a moment later fell onto his knees in front of Ron and Hermione.

Hermione grinned at him. "You should have let Remus go first," she said as she dragged him to his feet. "He's gotten quite good at catching you, I've noticed."

Ron laughed and they stepped out of the way for Ginny and Remus to come through.

"We got the Evening Prophet half an hour ago," said Ron. "Your story made front page, of course, although it was surprisingly slim on details."

"Oh, and you have a day named after you now," said Hermione as though she was telling him the time.

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. Ginny laughed at him. Remus went through to the kitchen to check out the article in the paper, wondering aloud how they had gotten the story so fast when the hearing had only just ended.

"Anyway, how was it, mate?" asked Ron. "Were you testifying the whole time, or did they have you sign autographs too?"

"They asked a few questions, and that was it," said Harry. "It was actually a pretty easy time."

Ginny made a face at his repetitive words. "What did they ask you?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but another rush from the floo alerted them to Draco's arrival. Harry smiled and pecked his boyfriend on the mouth.

"Hey, where's Severus?" he asked after a moment's time failed to produce another arrival.

"Oh," said Draco. "He couldn't make it. He said he wanted to rest. I don't think he slept much last night," he added in an undertone.

Harry felt an inexplicable hurt as he looked at the fireplace. He wanted Severus to be there. He felt another bit of panic. He needed to see Severus right now.

"Harry?" said Ginny worriedly.

He glanced around quickly and then announced, "I'm going to go get him before he closes the floo. I'll be back in a minute."

And without further ado, and despite a noise of protest from Draco, Harry threw down some floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and stated, "Snape Manor."

He felt his knees crack against the floor, and it hurt a little more this time since they were already a bit sore. He looked around, but the room was empty.

"Sev?" he called out, reaching out with his bond as well. Severus seemed so far away suddenly, but he was only in the kitchen. Harry made his way toward him quickly, and was met halfway. His bondmate was wearing casual robes, clearly settling himself in for a comfortable night at home.

Severus looked him up and down, as though searching for signs of injury, but Harry seemed to be okay. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

"No, I was just wondering why you weren't coming to dinner," Harry replied.

They know about our bond.

Severus' eyes flashed. "What was that?" he demanded.

Harry looked at him blankly and waved him off. "I don't know. Will you come to dinner at the Burrow? Molly is expecting you."

Severus eyed him. "I firecalled the Weasleys and hour ago. How was your hearing? What happened?"

"They asked me a few questions, and that was it," said Harry.

"Did they?" asked Severus. He opened their bond completely, probing Harry with Legilimency as well, but Harry resisted. It made him feel dizzy.

"Stop," he said. "It's okay. It was actually a pretty easy time."

Severus just looked at him for a moment, and then put his hand on Harry's shoulder protectively. "Harry," he began, but Harry cut him off.

"Please just leave it alone," he said. "Come to dinner."

Severus paused for a moment, looking into the eyes of his young bondmate. He seemed to be okay. He would certainly be able to tell if something was wrong through their bond, but he hadn't felt anything all afternoon. And there was nothing unusual about that. Harry didn't cling to him the way he clung to his twin. They often went hours without contacting each other.

Severus squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "Just let me change and I'll come through."

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: I know, I know, I'm off from canon as to when the election year is, but it fits into this story better than it would have fit into A Boy, Lost, so please just go with it. Also, I know some of the relationships will seem a bit OOC for the first few chapters, but I promise it will make sense soon enough, and if not, then please, by all means, call me on it. I may not change it, but it does me good to know what my readers are thinking.


	2. The Tremor Moles

A/N: Hey! I'm going to be going back over this and other stories of mine over the next couple of weeks and resubmitting chapters. There will not be any major changes—mainly just formatting and fixing small errors. One thing that I've noticed already in this story is that Harry Potter Day should be May 9th on my calendar, not May 8th (Although I really, really want it to be May 10th, since that's my birthday. But I just can't make it happen). Anyway, I apologize if this messes with anyone's Author Alert emails. Now, on with the show:

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Tremor Moles" XIXIX

The first thing Harry did on the morning of his birthday was to head by floo to the Department of Magical Vectors. He rubbed his knees as he stood up from the floor, glad that he would be done with the floo once and for all when he got his license.

Looking around, he was disappointed to note that a small crowd had already gathered at the front counter, grabbing numbered tickets and stacks of paperwork to fill out while they waited their turn for instruction and testing. The DMV was notorious for keeping people waiting in line for hours on end. Fred and George claimed to have waited roughly three days when they went to get their apparating licenses, but Ginny said with a wink that it was really closer to two.

To avoid the crowd, Harry had arrived at 8:04, but already the line was growing. He sighed and stepped forward, willing to miss as much of his birthday as was necessary in order to get this done.

He kept his head ducked, wearing a non-descript wizarding hat that kept his face hidden in shadows. So far no one had recognized him, but everyone seemed pretty keen on staying fully absorbed in their own suffering through the hours upon hours of line-waiting that lay ahead. He figured it was only a matter of time before someone spied his famous scar and started screaming or demanding autographs or photos. He was right.

Fifteen minutes after his arrival, he finally reached the counter where he was served a small stack of paperwork and a number—56. He glanced around for a place to sit and begin to wait in earnest when the witch behind the counter glanced up and squealed.

"Ooh! Harry Potter! That's right! Today's your birthday! Of course you'd be getting your license right away! Of course!" She was clearly a fan if she knew his birthday off the top of her head.

Harry smiled, ducking his head and blushing slightly, but already necks were craning to see the famous wizard, and five seconds later, he was swarmed by fans full of questions, comments, and starry-eyes. Harry was polite enough, but intently tried to maintain an "I'm just like you, this is no big deal" demeanor. It didn't really work.

After a few minutes, a stout wizard emerged from the back room, cleared his throat loudly, and called in a piercingly clear voice, "Numbers 11 through 20, please step forward."

A young witch, Harry's own age, looked down at his number and said, "Oh, Mr. Potter, happy birthday. Let's switch numbers." She held her number out for him to see—13.

Harry shook his head and opened his mouth to say, 'No, thank you,' but she interrupted him before he began.

"I insist. It's your birthday. And anyway," she added, blushing, "It's my third time here. I'm used to the wait already."

Harry smiled but said, "No really, I couldn't. But thank you."

But as he was saying it, nine other witches and wizards pushed forward, each trying to trade numbers with Harry, insisting that it would be an honor for him to take their place in the 8:30 group. Harry didn't even have a chance to decline before they began to argue with each other over who would get the honor or trading numbers with him. But then someone else mentioned that they'd rather sit the class with him than trade with him, and immediately everyone began backing off of their insistence that he trade with them.

Everyone, that is, except for the young witch who offered first. "Come on," she urged with a friendly smile. "Lucky 13. How could you pass that up?"

The wizard standing at the door to the back room cleared his throat loudly. "If there is no one with the numbers 11 through 20, then we shall move on to numbers—"

He was cut off by an outburst from numbers 11 through 20, including number 13 who winked at Harry, grabbed the number out of his hand, pressed her number into his hand, and pushed him to the door.

"Good luck," she whispered, and then she disappeared into the crowd behind him. Harry looked around for her for a few seconds, but then shrugged and followed the obviously disgruntled DMV worker through the door with the rest of the small group.

He led them to a small classroom and strode to the front of the room where he began in a rather snappish tone, "Welcome to the DMV. My name is Trevor and I will be your instructor and test administrator during the next hour. Please make sure your paperwork is in order before we begin the testing process so as to alleviate the long waits for the people who arrive after you." Here, he paused to glare specifically at Harry who was still holding his stack of paperwork in the haphazard fashion in which it had been handed him. The others looked at Harry curiously to see how he would react to such blatant rudeness, and seemed slightly disappointed that he appeared unbothered by their instructor's glare.

Trevor cleared his throat loudly once again and continued. "Who can tell me why we come to the Department of Magical Vectors to get our apparating licenses?" he asked.

"Because that's where they told us to go at school," said one wizard timidly.

Trevor ignored him and asked irritably, "Who can tell me what a vector is?"

There was silence for a moment, followed by Harry's calm voice saying, "A vector is a quantity that has a fixed direction and definite magnitude."

Trevor appeared to ignore him as well, but continued, "What do vectors then have to do with apparating?"

"Because when people apparate… they're going in a fixed direction?" ventured one witch.

"And magnitude is size, so people definitely have magnitudes," said another.

Trevor glared around the classroom as though he were going to be sick from the inherent stupidity he saw there. The look on his face reminded Harry amazingly of his first five and a half years of classes with Severus. He smiled to himself.

"Find something funny?" snapped Trevor.

"No, sir," said Harry, but his calm voice was ironic rather than respectful.

"There is nothing funny about apparating!" cried Trevor, his voice rising. "You become distracted at a crucial moment, and BAM!"

The class jumped.

"You wind up splinched!"

The class winced.

"Now, I want everyone to take a seat and pay close attention to this instructive painting." He motioned to the painting of a street corner that was behind him on the wall. "And take your hats off so that the people behind you can see!" he snapped, once again glaring specifically at Harry.

Harry nodded politely and removed his hat. Everyone leaned forward eagerly to see Trevor's reaction when he realized to whom he had been so rude for the last several minutes.

Trevor nodded in self-righteous satisfaction, but then did a double-take. The class chuckled appreciatively as Trevor then paled to an unnatural color. Harry, for his part, continued to seem unbothered and unconcerned by the entire event. He pulled out a quill and charmed it to fill in all his vital information on the pages that sat on the table before him (putting Hogwarts as his home address), and turned politely to watch the painting on the wall.

A very serious looking witch strode onto the scene and took up a place in the center of the frame. "Apparating," she began, "Is a very serious matter indeed. Without the proper amount of concentration, skill, and power, a witch or wizard could wind up splinching themselves, like so." She motioned to the street corner behind her, where, quite suddenly, several pieces of a wizard appeared, but most certainly not the entire wizard.

Most of the class groaned and covered their faces in disgust. Harry closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. This was the same instructive painting that Severus had watched when he was 17, so Harry knew from experience that it was only going to become more graphic as the next half-hour passed. The painting was more about scaring potential apparaters into apparating responsibly, rather than actually trying to educate them.

'Ginny,' he called through his link.

'What's up, bro?' she asked.

'This is boring. What are you doing?'

Ginny laughed, because as soon as he asked the question, he knew what she was doing. 'Preparing for your surprise party,' she thought. 'I told Mum it would never work if I was involved, even if you were at the DMV while we got ready.'

'Is she in the room right now?' he asked.

'No, she's upstairs preparing Fred and George's old room, just in case you decide to stay here tonight.'

'Ah…' he thought. 'I'll still act surprised then, how's that?'

She sighed. 'Good idea. Hey, what's your ETA? Ew—what was that?'

Harry had just glimpsed a rather gruesome splinching and had accidentally sent a wave of disgust through their link.

'You don't want to know,' he thought. 'What's my what?'

'ETA. Estimated time of arrival. Late this afternoon?'

'No. Actually, less than an hour. This girl traded turns in line with me, so I got in rather quick.'

'Perk of being Harry Potter, eh?'

'If you say so. She wouldn't take 'No' for an answer. I didn't even get to thank her.'

'Was she cute?' asked Ginny playfully.

'Ginny…' warned Harry.

'Ah, you're no fun. Well, hey! If you're going to be here this morning, do you want to play Quidditch? The twins took the day off, and Ron's here, and we can invite Malfoy over too.'

'Yeah, that's sounds good.'

'Ooh… Mum's coming. Gotta go or she'll be onto us!'

And then the link closed. Harry checked through his paperwork and found it to be nearly complete, and waited out the rest of the painting's instruction alone. When the portrait witch finally finished, Trevor led the class, in a much more friendly manner, to another room to administer their tests. When Trevor opened the door, he saw that the 8:00 group had not quite finished, so he asked the 8:30 group to please wait in the hallway for a few more minutes. Behind them, the 9:00 group filed into the classroom they had just exited.

Soon thereafter, the 8:30 group was able to enter the examination room. It was a large room with different symbols painted onto the walls at 2meter intervals. Trevor reminded the group pleasantly about vectors and coordinates and landmarks. He then continued by advising the group to be mindful of their magnitude and any change that might occur due to bulky clothing or carried objects.

Harry had never apparated before, but he remembered having done it countless times in Severus' body. He was mindful when his turn came to adjust his magic for his own magnitude, since Severus was still the larger of the two wizards. Trevor held up a card showing one of the symbols. Harry thought the incantation and blinked.

It felt like his heart pounded in his chest, but just once, really hard. Apparating was a similar feeling to fright, but Harry knew his body would get used to it in a short time. He looked up at the symbol on the wall next to him, making sure it matched the symbol on his card, and smiled. He glanced down to his knees and muttered under his breath, "You're welcome."

The rest of his group broke out into applause.

XIXIX

The set-up of the game was simple, but by no means easy. Harry and Malfoy were opposing seekers. Fred and George were opposing beaters (although Ginny was quite sure that they kept switching sides, thinking that no one noticed). Ron and Ginny were opposing chasers and keepers. It was hard enough playing with teams that were half their regular size, but Ginny was also having difficulty with the teams.

The male Weasleys had protested against Harry and Ginny being on the same team, since they could help each other with a thought, so the bonded twins had agreed to play against each other. Harry, Fred, and Ron were currently leading by thirty points, and Ginny blamed this entirely on her own seeker's unfortunate habit of "accidentally" ramming into her while he searched for the snitch.

For some time, Ginny had felt that she and Malfoy had a sort of unsettled aggression between the two of them. They had laid aside their differences for Harry's sake, but their differences seemed to follow them around constantly, badgering both of them to have it out already. Ginny figured that an impromptu Quidditch game was as good a time as any to blow off a bit of steam.

It was shortly after their third "accident" that Ginny began to suspect that Fred and George were switching sides, both wanting a chance to send a bludger Malfoy's way. She briefly entertained the notion of calling them on it, out of fairness for the game. But then she considered that so long as Malfoy was more intent on ramming a teammate than winning the game, the game would lack the true competitive spirit of struggle for a fair victory. So, since the result of the game didn't much matter, fairness be damned!

She was going up against Ron, about to score another goal, when she sensed that Malfoy was shooting toward her. Harry was on the opposite side of the field, and he too turned in her direction at break-neck speed. Ron was coming at her from the left, Malfoy from the right. In a brilliant tactical maneuver, Ginny looped around Ron so that he briefly lost track of where she was, but the move also put her in the perfect position to take Malfoy head-on.

She caught his eyes a moment before they crashed. They were narrowed in fury.

They tumbled together to the earth below, struggling against each other, and finally landing with a jarring thud. The others landed around them within moments. Harry and George set to peeling the two apart. Harry was holding the snitch in one hand.

"Are you guys okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," they both answered at once, and then shot glares at each other.

"Draco, that looks pretty bad," said Harry, looking at Malfoy's leg. Ginny peered over to see that his robes were torn open at the knee and that he was bleeding pretty freely. She had to force herself not to smile or let Harry know how pleased she was.

As Harry helped Malfoy up and began to lead him inside, Ginny checked herself for injuries, but found only scrapes and bruises.

"He did that on purpose," muttered George, looking after Harry and Malfoy.

"So did she," muttered Fred in return. The twins broke out into identical grins and threw their arms around Ginny's shoulders, sticking out their chests proudly.

"Ginny, that was an awesome move you pulled back there," said Ron, and Ginny was pleased once again—not just because her brother, the brilliant strategist, had complimented her, but because Ron seemed excited about Quidditch again. He had so rarely seemed animated about anything since the Final Battle.

"Thanks," she said, and then let Fred and George lead her into the house as though she were the conquering hero.

XIXIX

Harry failed to react when his wand exploded in his hand, and Ginny didn't fail to notice that. Fred and George were rolling on the floor, laughing at what they took to be a baffled expression on Harry's face, but Ginny knew better. She felt no surprise or confusion through the twin bond. It was almost as though Harry hadn't even noticed the fireworks.

After a few seconds he looked around, saw everyone laughing, and began to laugh as well, but Ginny got the distinct impression that he was just playing along. He grabbed his real wand and returned to his intended task of mending his robes as though Fred and George had never slipped him one of their joke wands.

There were times lately when Harry seemed to just blank out. One minute he would be there—just the normal Harry Potter. But the next minute, he seemed so foreign. Ginny couldn't recognize him through their link. It wasn't the same as when he had his flashbacks—they could be dark and terrible, surely. But this was worse. Sometimes she couldn't even feel him at all, like he had disappeared completely but somehow left her in tact despite the nature of their bond. It was disturbing when it happened, and Ginny really didn't know what to do about it.

It had started after Severus' trial and Harry's hearing. Concerned, Ginny had mentioned it the first few times it happened, but Harry got very defensive. He seemed almost volatile in the way that he pushed her away, in the way that he avoided all conversation about it. She guessed that it was perhaps a sorer spot to him than anything else, but it really just wasn't like Harry to have spots so sore that even she wasn't allowed to reach them. He begged her to 'leave it alone,' and she had feared for a moment that if she didn't, she would lose him.

So she left it alone. She left it alone every time he blanked out, every time he closed off their link for no apparent reason. And she left alone the topic of his hearing at the Ministry, on which he had only two sentences to say, "They asked me a few questions, and that was it," and, "It was actually a pretty easy time."

Ginny rather doubted the truth of either sentence, because usually Harry would tell her everything about everything. But when it came to whatever happened during the four hours of his hearing, Harry just wasn't talking. So she left it alone.

But there was one thing that she really didn't think she should leave alone anymore. She stood up and headed to her twin. A tremor shook the house as she walked, but that was hardly unusual nowadays. Ron and her dad were pretty sure they still had another week or two to take care of the Tremor Moles before things got really out of hand. Harry looked alarmed for a moment as the tremors started ('Curious,' thought Ginny), but then smiled as she joined him on the couch.

"I never even heard of Tremor Moles before," he said.

"Yeah, I think Luna made them up and then they just popped into existence for her," Ginny replied.

Harry laughed and Ginny looked around to make sure her brothers were suitably occupied in conversation. "Harry," she said, using their twin language just in case someone was eavesdropping, "Have you happened to notice that your boyfriend still hates me?"

Harry cut her a look. "Of course he doesn't. He's just a little jealous of our bond, is all."

Ginny nodded sagely. "Right, right. Just a little jealous. Because, the thing is, Harry, Malfoys don't do anything just a little. Malfoy is a whole hell of a lot of jealous of me. He thinks I'm going to steal you away from him."

"Don't be ridiculous," shot Harry. "You're my twin. He knows there's nothing going on between us."

"He knows there's nothing sexual going on between us," she agreed. "But he also knows that we love each other a great deal. And plus, with the nature of our bond, not to mention the strength of it, he knows that I'm here to stay. And since he and I don't really get along, I'm pretty sure that he's afraid I'll try to force you to leave him."

"But you would never do that," said Harry, who seemed to be offended for Ginny's sake as well as Malfoy's.

"But does he know that? Especially when you won't go to Figueres with him, and he knows it's because of me even though you've never told him."

Harry turned back to his robes, his eyes darkening. He cast a mending spell that went terribly awry, fusing two pieces of cloth that would very likely hamper his ability to walk if the mistake were not corrected.

"Ginny…" he began, but Ginny cut him off.

"It's not weakness, Harry. It's nothing to be embarrassed of. It was a fucked-up thing that happened to us, and I don't particularly fancy spending that much time away from you yet either. But you've got to explain that to him. Tell him that it's not because I don't want you to go. Tell him that we're just not ready to spend that much time apart."

Harry was quiet for a long time, painstakingly fixing the mistake he had made on his robes. Ginny knew he was thinking, even though his thoughts were closed to her. She wondered if that was something she should leave alone, but she didn't need to peak to know what he was thinking about. The few times they did talk about their bond, or about spending time apart, both of them would fixate onto their memories of the Final Battle.

Ginny's brother Percy had tortured Ginny as a means of incapacitating Harry, since whatever she felt, he felt, and vice versa. Harry had managed to stay mobile by completely closing off their link to each other—something that was supposed to be impossible with twin bonds, but something that Ginny had done already once before. It would be horrible to be so separated from each other even in the best of circumstances, but Harry had been in the midst of war, and Ginny had been tortured to the brink of death.

"I'm not ready to talk to him about that," said Harry. "Draco's dealing with a lot right now. I just… I really don't think that now is a good time."

Harry stood up and walked into the bathroom. Ginny stood up and walked into the kitchen. There, she found her mum fawning over Malfoy, bandaging up his knee and feeding him homemade sweets. It didn't matter if he and his family had been jerks to her family for years. Molly Weasley had a soft spot for motherless children, and had embraced Malfoy immediately from the beginning of the summer, despite Malfoy's obvious reluctance to be embraced by any of the redheads. But Ginny's mum was just too strong-willed, and too good-hearted to be dissuaded, and Ginny thought she just might have won Malfoy over after all.

"How's the knee?" she asked as she entered the room.

"It'll be okay," said Molly. "But I daresay it stings a bit."

Malfoy nodded around a mouthful of tarts. Ginny slid into the chair opposite him at the kitchen table. They looked at each other impassively, both refusing to treat the other in a challenging manner in front of Molly. Molly finished bandaging his knee and began putting her magical first-aid supplies away. She seemed to be hardly paying attention to Ginny and Malfoy's interaction, but Ginny knew better.

"Forgive the crash," said Malfoy neutrally.

Ginny waved him off and said lightly, "Nothing to forgive, Malfoy. It's all part of the game we play."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow slightly and she knew he understood that she wasn't speaking about Quidditch. "I'm glad Harry invited me to play," he responded.

"I invited you," replied Ginny. "We needed someone who could give Harry a run for his money." Ginny noticed that her mother was lingering at the cabinet across the room for a suspiciously long time.

"But you think you can do that as well as I?" asked Malfoy to clarify if Ginny was challenging him.

"It's different," said Ginny significantly. "I tried playing seeker before, but that's not the position I was meant to play."

Malfoy regarded her silently; the look on his face was calculating and disbelieving. 'What the hell?' thought Ginny, deciding to go for broke. She leaned forward and dropped her voice very suddenly.

"Draco, you heard the rumors before Harry and I bonded. You know how I felt about him. But he didn't choose me for that. He chose you. Talk to him. It'll help." Ginny stood up and stretched. "I'm a chaser," she said aloud. "No less important than the seeker, mind you. It's just a different position to play. And," she added, yawning, "I'd like to think I'm good at it."

She walked out of the kitchen and Draco stared after her, wondering for the first time if maybe they were on the same team after all.

XIXIX

Molly casually invited Draco to dinner in Harry's hearing so that Harry wouldn't be suspicious about his boyfriend's continued presence. So far that day, no one had mentioned Harry's birthday to him, so that maybe he would be caught unawares by his party. But Draco knew better than that. Harry seemed slightly on edge as the day wore on—showing to anyone who knew him well that he was readying himself to be surrounded by a crowd of people.

It would be close friends only, but Draco couldn't tell if Harry knew that. Until recently, he had only shied away from groups of strangers. But lately, Harry played hot and cold with even the closest of friends. He was pulling away from everybody. Draco tried not to take it personally, but his history with Harry was rocky to say the least, and he honestly didn't know how much friction they could make it through.

Ginny had said to talk to him about it, but Draco feared the potential outcome of that conversation. He'd lost enough people in his life over the past six months. He and Harry may not make it forever, but he was not prepared to let him go just yet. So instead he lay on the Weasley's couch with his head in Harry's lap, pretending to sleep and enjoying the feeling Harry's fingers weaving in and out of his hair with soothing slowness. He could have stayed there forever, basking in relaxed contentment. But it was not to be.

With nearly an hour left before party time, a rushing sound alerted Draco to someone's arrival by floo. He lay still, hoping against hope that whoever it was would just leave the living room without speaking to Harry or him. But as soon as the newcomer's feet hit the floor, he was running up to Harry.

"Are you okay?"

It was Lupin. His breath was ragged and he was clearly working himself up into a frenzy. Draco cracked an eye open to see him leaning over Harry, concern coming off of him in waves. In his right hand he gripped his wand; in his left, he clutched a crumpled piece of parchment.

"I'm fine," whispered Harry, indicating the sleeping blonde on his lap. But then he smiled when he saw Draco's eyes were opening. Draco smiled back peacefully, trying to shove down his annoyance. Harry had an altogether infuriating number of people jumping in at random times, demanding to know if he was okay. It left Draco feeling inadequate somehow.

Lupin stared at Harry searchingly for a few more seconds, and then slumped into the chair beside the couch. He smoothed out the piece of parchment, read it over, and sighed.

"I guess it was nothing, then. Thank Merlin."

Harry leaned forward to try to see the parchment, and Draco was obliged to sit up. "Problem, Professor?" he asked dryly as he shifted his position.

Lupin shook his head. "No," he said, shoving the parchment into one of his pockets. "Just had an owl from Hermione. She said she had a feeling that something was terribly wrong with Harry and asked me to check it out."

Draco smirked, and was not quite able to keep the bite out of his voice as he said, "Ah yes, the Seer has spoken… Funny that she seems to be taking after Trelawny by predicting catastrophes for Harry. And here I thought she liked him."

Lupin cast a glare in Draco's direction and Draco saw the weakness—Granger so much as hints at a prediction of trouble for Harry and the werewolf leaps to the rescue, half-mad with worry. Pity that Draco was no longer in a position to use this sort of information to his advantage. He could have wreaked havoc in their third year if he had only known how attached Lupin was.

"Leave it, Draco," said Harry tiredly as he leaned back in his seat. "Hermione's not a fraud like Trelawny. She's still just trying to get a handle on her powers, is all."

Lupin nodded his agreement, seemingly satisfied, but he made no move to leave. A few moments later, Molly walked in.

"I thought I heard someone from the floo," she said, her voice a bit tight. "Remus, what a surprise." She looked at him significantly, as though to shut him up before he let anything slip about Harry's party. "What are you doing here?"

"I received an owl from Hermione asking me to check on Harry. But it seems to be nothing."

Draco almost groaned aloud as Lupin's previous concern almost visibly spread to Molly and she turned on Harry as though examining him for signs of injury. Another moment passed, and the other Weasleys were in the living room as well, and Draco knew his alone time with Harry was done for the day.

XIXIX

At 6:00, the twins took Harry upstairs to show off their newest invention, which was, for some unspoken but highly convenient reason, all the way upstairs in Ron's room. The ghoul was making quite a fuss—it was easily two or three times louder than it normally was, which helped to cover any small noise of floo arrivals that might have made it from the living room to Ron's bedroom. But that was as far as the ruse went.

As soon as the twins got Harry into their younger brother's room, Fred closed the door and they turned to him with a smile.

"You know the real reason you're up here, of course," said George with a wink.

"Mum still thinks you don't know," added Fred.

"Over the years, she's attempted…"

"Dozens of surprise parties for all of us. And so far…"

"None of them have resulted in an actual surprise…"

"For any of us. But you're a Weasley now…"

"And we wanted to make sure that you understood…"

"That the true nature of Weasley Surprise Parties…"

"Is not to keep the secret from the person of honor…"

"But to keep it a secret from Mum that…"

"Everyone…"

"Always knows," they finished together.

Harry grinned as he watched the twins. "I was planning on acting surprised," he said. "I wouldn't want to let Molly down."

Fred shook his head. "That's not enough. You have to think about…"

"How you would really react if you were caught unawares."

"Us?" said Fred, sticking out his thumb to indicate himself and his brother.

George looked to Harry significantly and said, "We always adopt matching grins that have come to be known as the 'time to watch your back' grins."

Fred nodded. "That's right. Because we would of course be thrilled if we suddenly had a houseful of people to play pranks on."

"You, however," continued George.

"Would be embarrassed out of your mind that so many people gathered for your sake," said Fred nonchalantly.

"You like all of the people who will be here, of course…"

"So you can act happy to see them…"

"But keep in mind that they're all here…"

"For you…"

"To make you happy…"

"To give you things…"

"To sing for you…"

"And clap for you…"

Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks as the twins continued on, circling him like vultures. They stopped suddenly to inspect his tinting cheeks and nodded to each other in satisfaction.

"Perfect," they announced in unison.

"Come along," said Fred. "It's party time."

XIXIX

Draco stood at the base of the stairs to give the signal when Harry and the twins were approaching. It was rather ridiculous, he thought. Because of their bond, Ginny could always tell where Harry was without 'needing to keep a look-out.' But Molly had wanted him to do it, and Draco hadn't argued.

Everyone was gathered just out of view of the stairs. Draco looked up to see his boyfriend heading down and he brushed his hair back out of his face. That was the signal, and everyone got ready. A moment before Harry could see everyone else, he gave Draco a look that was absolutely pleading. Draco smiled and held out a hand to take Harry's.

Harry kept his eyes fixed on Draco as he stepped down from the stairs. Everyone yelled, "SURPRISE!!!" at the top of their lungs (except Severus, who merely stood there, scowling) and Harry jumped, pulling out his wand in a heartbeat and aiming it at the noise.

Everyone laughed appreciatively as Harry reddened considerably, his shy smile showing that he was somewhere between happy and embarrassed. The twins leaned over to him as they entered the crowd and whispered, "Good one."

Harry greeted everyone with happiness and embarrassment, finding that he actually didn't have to do much acting for either emotion. Nicolas and Perenelle had brought Hermione, who didn't have a floo network attached to her house. Luna Lovegood was there, looking around as though she had forgotten why she came. Remus and Severus were standing on opposite sides of the room, which indicated to Harry that they had very likely already had a disagreement, and probably regarding Harry. Tonks was talking with Charlie and Arthur, and Molly was directing floating trays of food throughout the crowd of people. Harry made his way over to her.

"Molly, did you do this?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said. "It was really quite strange. A few minutes ago, everyone just randomly appeared." Harry laughed. "Perenelle said, 'What are you all doing here?' and Tonks said, 'Well, I'm here to celebrate Harry's birthday,' and Severus said, 'I am, as well! What a coincidence!' And I just happened to have some food…"

"You really shouldn't have, Molly," said Harry, blushing again. "I really thought you had forgotten."

Molly swept him into a hug. "Don't sound so disappointed, love. You only turn 17 once, you know." And Harry knew that he had managed to keep the Weasley Surprise Party secret.

XIXIX

It was early into the party when the tremors started again. Draco was standing against the wall with Harry, who had been trying to act as though he were perfectly calm in the midst of a houseful of people all gathered in his honor. Draco thought he was doing rather well, actually. Until the tremors started, that is. Then Harry very inexplicably fell to his knees.

"Ah!" called out Nicolas jovially to Arthur. "I see you have some Tremor Moles! You know, they are considered very good luck in some parts of the world."

"Yes, but unfortunately not in Britain," replied Arthur with a smile.

Tonks looked out the window and gasped, "What on Earth?!"

Perenelle looked out the window as well and began to laugh. "Oh, it looks like the eggs are close to hatching! Look!"

Several people rushed to the windows to find that the yard was swimming with small snakes. It was quite a sight. The snakes seemed to be drawn toward the Burrow like metal to a magnet.

"Oh dear," said Arthur. "I had really hoped we had another week left. But if they're already drawing snakes to feed the hatchlings, I'd say we only have another two days tops. Maybe not even that." He shook his head, but then continued flippantly, "Oh well. Harry? Ron? Will you boys be okay with relocating the Tremor Moles on Harry's birthday?" But when he turned from the window, the smile dropped from his face.

Harry did not look to be okay with anything at present.

Draco was holding Harry from behind, his arms looped up underneath Harry's shoulders. Harry seemed to be in the midst of some sort of seizure. Through his concern at this obviously unusual behavior, some rational part of Draco had remained calm since neither of Harry's bondmates had rushed over immediately after Harry had dropped. If they hadn't felt something was wrong, then obviously Harry was okay, really.

But when Arthur turned around, the room's attention seemed to focus immediately on Harry, and his two bondmates ran over looking confused and upset.

"What's happening?" demanded Severus.

Draco looked at him for a second and then shook his head to indicate he didn't know. Harry began to struggle, turning over and clawing at the floor.

"Oh, Merlin," said Ginny, the color draining from her face. "Why didn't I think of this?" She turned to Severus and dropped her voice so that only he and Draco could hear her. "The Tremor Moles are calling snakes to them for feeding."

Draco looked between Harry's two bondmates, waiting for the explanation of what any of that had to do with his boyfriend's condition, but none came. Severus just looked at Ginny for a moment before his eyes widened slightly. He turned back to Harry and then to Draco.

"Get him out of here. Take him back to the Manor. We'll explain later." Draco paused for a moment, and Severus hissed authoritatively, "Now!"

Ginny helped Draco to pull Harry to his feet and take him to the fireplace. Severus moved with them like a bodyguard, and despite the fact that he was friends with, or at least acquaintances with, everyone in the room, no one made a move toward the people he meant to protect. They stood interspersed throughout the room, looking on with a mixture of confusion and concern.

At the fireplace, Ginny turned to Severus and said, "Professor, Ron's plan to move the house involved the use of Harry's magic. We're going to need extra help if he can't be here."

Severus nodded. "You and I will stay behind. Draco, take care of him. He should be fine as soon as he's at the Manor."

Draco nodded, clearly not understanding, and dragged Harry into the fireplace, yelling out, "Snape Manor."

As soon as they were gone, Severus' shoulders relaxed a nearly infinitesimal amount, but it was enough to relax the fear he had struck in the room that had held everyone in check while he attended to his bondmate. The room broke out into an uproar, with everyone demanding to know what had happened to Harry. Severus held up his hands and opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny interrupted him.

"Harry's a parselmouth," she said by way of explanation.

"What are you talking about?" asked Molly, wringing her hands.

"The Tremor Moles are calling snakes. There have got to be hundreds of them out there… maybe thousands. And each has a voice that only Harry can hear. He'll be fine at Snape Manor. We just need to take care of the Tremor Moles and get rid of the snakes and everything will be fine."

Her voice was so calm and reassuring, in that way that Ginny had. Severus watched her as she placated friends and adults, even her parents. She really was a natural leader.

After she was certain that everyone was assured of Harry's wellness, she turned the situation over to her father and Ron, who asked for volunteers to help lift the house and relocate the Tremor Mole family.

Ginny stood next to Severus, who mused in a very quiet voice, "You lie rather well."

"I know," she replied unashamedly. "Harry doesn't want anyone to know."

"You should have been in Slytherin," he said.

She looked up at him with a knowing twinkle in her eye that reminded Severus for a moment of Dumbledore. "The Sorting Hat did consider putting me in Slytherin," she said. "But I asked for Gryffindor."

Severus raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Need I ask why?" he said, assuming prejudice had driven her decision.

"Are you kidding?" asked Ginny. "Fred and George were still at Hogwarts when I started. I don't even want to imagine the pranks they would have played against me if I had been in Slytherin." She shuddered, and Severus very nearly smiled.

XIXIX

Draco collapsed onto the floor at Snape Manor with a bundle of Harry in his arms. He knew he wouldn't be able to maintain balance for both of them, and had tried to take the brunt of the fall, but it seemed as though Harry had wound up whacking his knees pretty hard when they landed.

Harry was moaning slightly and Draco leaned in, holding Harry's cheek affectionately.

"Are you all right?" he asked

Harry nuzzled into the touch for a moment, but then his eyes flew open in alarm. "What happened?"

Draco smirked. "At it again, Potter," he mocked sweetly. "You always have to be the center of attention, don't you?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," spat Harry as he moved to stand up. Draco was surprised to hear what sounded like real anger in his voice. He stood up as well, looking at Harry questioningly. Harry squared his shoulders and demanded again, "What happened?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to be treated like this. "I don't know what happened, since you don't ever bother telling me anything."

"Right," said Harry, his voice sarcastic. "So you have no idea how we ended up on the floor at Snape Manor, then?"

Draco folded his arms and adopted his cold, indifferent Malfoy sneer. He'd seen Harry like this once with Ginny. Ginny had asked him something in their twin language and they had argued until she backed down and left it alone. Well, Draco wasn't about to back down. He had done nothing to warrant Harry behaving in this manner, and was intent that Harry realize it before he let it drop.

"Only the vaguest of ideas, love," he said in a tone void of all emotion. "You had a fit of some sort, and your… other thirds… asked me to bring you here. So maybe you won't mind telling me what the bloody hell is going on!" Draco squared his stance and clenched his fists to show Harry he meant business.

Harry turned away. "I don't remember," he said. Then he began to walk away. "I'm going to get some water," he said, but Draco saw what he really meant to do. Ginny would leave it if he pushed hard enough, but Harry knew that Draco would not. So Harry left instead. Anything to make the conversation go away.

Draco walked after him.

Harry entered the kitchen like he owned the place, which, Draco allowed, he probably felt like he did. Harry had told him about how he had acquired Severus' memories. Draco had no idea why he would hold onto those memories when they would surely cause problems with his sense of self. But he had no idea why Harry did a lot of the things he did.

After getting a glass of water, Harry leaned up against the counter in the exact way that Severus did nearly every day. The two wizards watched each other for a second, and then Harry asked, "Is the party over, then?"

'Right,' thought Draco. 'Just change the subject.'

He shrugged and leaned against the opposite wall. "I'm not sure," he said nonchalantly. "What was it Ginny said before we left?" he mused as though trying to determine the answer to Harry's question. "Something about… 'The Tremor Moles are calling snakes to them for feeding.' Tell me, Harry," he set a hard glare on his now groaning boyfriend, "Why would that cause you to have a fit?"

Harry set his glass down and stared at the floor pensively. Draco looked away. Damn, but did Harry look so much like Severus sometimes.

"Harry," he said, focusing on the nearest leg of the kitchen table, "What aren't you telling me?"

Harry was quiet for so long that Draco began to think that he just might have to wait to hear the truth from Severus or Ginny after all. But then, still not looking at Draco, he began to speak.

"Do you remember how I told you about the Dementor?"

Draco nodded. "You say you possessed a Dementor during the Final Battle."

Harry scowled, but still stared at the floor. "I don't say anything," he argued. "I possessed a Dementor during the Final Battle."

"Okay," said Draco. "Go on."

"You told me that wasn't possible," continued Harry.

"Because it's not," said Draco.

"For a wizard," agreed Harry. "It's not possible for a wizard to do that."

Draco nodded again. Why was it that whenever Harry agreed with him, it sounded like he was arguing with him? "And you are a wiz…" he trailed off. Maybe Harry wasn't. He looked at his boyfriend, who was still studying the floor. "Aren't you, Harry?"

Again, Harry was silent for a long time. Then, he said, "Kind of."

Draco took a few steps forward. "What do you mean, 'Kind of'? How you can you 'kind of' be a wizard? I know you're not a squib; you're too bloody powerful."

Harry looked up briefly, but then looked away. "Let's have a seat," he suggested, motioning to the kitchen table. Draco nodded dully and they sat opposite each other. After Harry had settled himself, he finally looked Draco in the eye.

"Voldemort's main goal," he began, seeming to change the subject, "Was immortality."

"That, and world domination," agreed Draco. "But what does that…"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and Draco fell silent.

"Before he tried to kill me as a baby," said Harry, "He had already done a great deal of experimenting on himself. One of those experiments was that he fused himself with one of the magical species of snake… so that he actually became part snake."

Draco nodded, despite the fact that nothing had yet sunk in.

"When the Killing Curse rebounded off of me, I absorbed a large chunk of Voldemort's powers, including powers from his snake self. That is perhaps why I am a parselmouth, but it is definitely why I can do mental magic on other species. Wizards can't do that, but apparently snakes can."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "A lot of magical animals can control each other… like the Tremor Moles. They called the snakes." Draco looked at Harry calculatingly. "They were calling you too, then."

Harry nodded. "I imagine, at least. I don't actually remember. But Ginny agrees that that's what she thinks happened."

Draco looked away. He hated it when Harry held silent conversations with his bondmates while he was sitting right there.

"Of course," he said. "Ginny knew. And Severus, too, right?"

"They're the only ones," said Harry. "And Dumbledore. He was the one who told me."

"How long have you known?" asked Draco.

"Since the day we went to the cemetery. You brought up questions I couldn't answer, so I went and asked Dumbledore as soon as we got back."

Draco stood up. "You've known all this time and you didn't tell me?"

Harry looked up at him, his eyes suddenly wide. "Well, you have so much else going on… I didn't want to bother…"

"Me. You didn't want to tell me. But it's no bother to your bondmates. You'd trust them enough to tell them anything, wouldn't you?"

Harry stood up. "It's not a matter of trust, Draco."

"Yes it is, Harry. And it always will be. I wonder sometimes if you'll ever trust me."

Harry grabbed his arm. "I trust you," he insisted.

"If you trusted me, you would have told me."

"I'm telling you now."

Draco shook his head. "You told them first. You have all these other people, Harry—all these other relationships—these people in your life, fighting each other over who gets to support Harry today. And that's great for you, Harry. Really, it is. But this support system you have… it's not for us. It's just for you. These same people only just barely tolerate me, and if you can't bring yourself to trust me, then I'm left on the outside. And it's not enough for me that I always come last."

Harry looked at him pleadingly. "Draco, it's not like that. I'm not meaning to leave you out, it's just… It hasn't always been like this. I haven't always had people around me like this. I mean, you grew up with parents, but I didn't. I don't know—"

The words had only just left Harry's mouth when Draco saw red. He didn't even know what he was doing until he had Harry pinned against the wall, one hand clutching his throat.

"You're going to blame this on me?" he spat venomously. "Because I had parents and you didn't? Oh, poor Harry," he jarred Harry against the wall, "Poor thing never had a father to try and rule his life… Never had parents to disown him…"

He slammed him against the wall one more time and screamed, "Never had to kill his father on a battlefield with a fucking Killing Curse to the back!"

Draco's grip was loose now, but Harry stood still in the face of his rage. "Oh, and you really missed out having a mother, to rot in prison without even the comfort of insanity to pass the days, since the Dementors are gone now. No, no! You were left with nothing, except the knowledge that your parents would do anything for you—that your parents would die for you!"

Draco was clinging to Harry's robes, pulling at him and pushing away at once. He was crying and angry and broken. Harry tried to wrap him up in his arms but Draco shoved at him. "And fuck you if you say you don't know what love is," he mumbled. Harry pulled at him again and they slid to the floor, crying against each other.

"I'm sorry," whispered Harry. "Draco, I'm so sorry."

They didn't speak for a long time, and Draco half expected to hear the floo from the other room at any moment. Surely as soon as they took care of the Tremor Moles, everyone would want Harry to come back to finish the party. But no one came.

"Draco," said Harry eventually, "I have to tell you something else. It's about Ginny, and it's about why I can't go to Figueres with you right now."

Draco didn't move. He had a feeling that this was not going to be pleasant, so he decided to at least maintain his comfortable position of being curled up with Harry on the kitchen floor for a few moments longer, before the shit hit the fan again. He said nothing. He just waited.

"You were there when I had to separate from Ginny," he said. "It's not like how I close the bond when you and I are together. That's just a surface thing. Ginny and I can still feel each other through the link. I'll still know that she's alive, if she's hurt, if she's feeling any strong emotion… or anything else. We're still connected."

He took a deep, shaky breath and continued. "It's like my heart—I don't think about my heart pumping blood, it just does it. When I had to block our link completely, it was like… figuring out how to control my heart… and then willingly making it stop beating. They say it's impossible for twins to do that, but we did it. But I agree that it certainly shouldn't be possible. I would rather us both die than to go through that again. I speak for Ginny on that one, too."

Draco lay still, but tightened his grip on his boyfriend.

Harry continued, "It's not that you don't matter as much to me as she does. It's just that it's really hard to be away from her right now. Merlin, I'm just… I'm terrified of that ever happening again."

Draco shifted finally, raising his head so that he could look Harry in the eye. "This can't go on forever, you know," he said quietly.

"I know," agreed Harry. "But why not for right now?"

XIXIX

The fireplace was silent until much later, when Harry and Draco had made their way to Draco's room, and were very intimately expressing the importance of each to the other. And Harry stayed at Snape Manor that night, although he did drag Draco back to the Burrow as soon as they were both up the next morning. The Tremor Moles had been taken care of, and Molly had saved them both plenty of food, and was especially worried about Harry, whom Ginny had insisted all night was not feeling near well enough to return to the Burrow, nor to be around any more than the one person who was taking care of him.

Draco made a point to be understanding about Harry's need to see and be near his bondmates in regular intervals. But he insisted that he and Harry spend time together without Harry's bondmates, to which Harry agreed. They spent a large portion of the next week together, and Draco began to relax a little as he began to accept that Harry hadn't been pushing him away after all.

But then Harry disappeared.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers. I was asked if this would remain a Harry/Draco story. And it will, but it will also be other things, and I refuse to promise that everyone will like all of the pairings that will occur during the story. I was also asked for a summary, so here's the short version:

The characters (pretty much all of them) will discover that the bonds they create with each other can hurt as much as they can help, especially when they are controlled by secrets. The story will extend past Hogwarts and into the grown-up lives of the students as they work against all odds, and sometimes each other, to rebuild a war-torn wizarding world.

The long version could go on for pages, and would probably contain many spoilers, but if anyone really wants it, just email me and ask. I don't bite. Swear.

(evil grin)


	3. Search for the Lost, Part I

A/N: Hey, this chapter just kept getting longer and longer, so I decided to split it up into two parts in order to alleviate the wait to you, my dear readers. So, sorry if it seems incomplete. It is. But I hope you all enjoy it regardless.

X

XIX

XIXIX "Search for the Lost, Part I" XIXIX

Ginny woke up that morning with a strange feeling of absence, and was immediately focused on the fact that Harry had closed their link. He'd been doing that an awful lot lately since he and Malfoy had been spending an awful lot of time together, alone, behind closed doors. The natural consequence was that Harry had been blocking her out more and more.

She figured it was a good step for them, weaning themselves off of each other, so to speak, so that they could be more comfortable spending time apart as life moved on. And Malfoy was as good an excuse for this as any. Granted, Ginny still was not one of Malfoy's biggest fans. (They did get along better since Harry's birthday, but Ginny found that she still had to force herself to be polite at times.) But Harry really did care about him, and he needed to let the blond know that if he was going to hold onto him.

As Ginny began to get ready for the day, she began to feel quite unsettled. She knew that Harry was with Malfoy, but only because where else would he _be_ where he would feel the need to block their link? The real problem was that Ginny had absolutely no sense of him at all.

Normally the block between them would simply keep her from experiencing the _intimacies_ of his time with Malfoy. She would still _know_ through their link where he was. She would still _know_ if he was safe, or threatened, or worried, or hungry, or whatever else. Because even when he blocked the link to have sex, he would only block out the sensations of sex, and only for the duration of sex.

And—no offense meant to either of them—there was simply _no way_ that they had been having sex since the previous evening before she went to bed. The link should have opened while he was sleeping. And even if he kept it closed, she should still have a _sense_ of him being over at Snape Manor.

But… nothing. Harry had apparently figured out a way to block all sensation of himself to her, and for some reason felt that it was necessary to maintain this block for going on ten hours now. Ginny was going to have to have a chat with him about that. It was altogether unpleasant and he needed to know that before he decided to make a regular habit of his new little trick.

She scowled into the mirror in the bathroom. Two sides of herself were warring. One was determinedly remaining light and refusing to admit that anything could even possibly be wrong. But then there was the constant gnawing in her chest that the absence she felt indicated that something was wrong with Harry. 'But nothing could be wrong,' her light side persisted. 'I would know.' The gnawing continued, though. She couldn't get rid of it, although she _could_ ignore it.

So she did.

Ginny forced down her worry and decided to firecall the mansion and invite the guys over for breakfast, or maybe just bum an invitation to breakfast from them. She went down the stairs, noticed her mum and Ron were out, and plopped down in front of the fireplace. Throwing some firecall powder down, she clearly annunciated, "Snape Manor." With a whirling rush and disconnected pull, Ginny opened her eyes to see the living room at Snape Manor.

The room was empty, but Ginny didn't have to wait long for someone to answer the firecall. Severus swept in, in a business-like manner, already dressed and ready for the day. Ginny distracted herself from her worry for a moment by wondering if the Professor was a morning person. He'd always seemed a night owl to her, but maybe he just didn't sleep…

"Ah, Ms. Weasley, what can I do for you?" He sat in his favorite armchair near the fire and regarded her levelly.

Ginny flashed a winning grin and was pleased when Severus responded by narrowing his eyes in concentration not to smile back. After the Final Battle, it had taken surprisingly little time for her to win him over, which she considered to be one of the greatest feats of her life.

"I was just wondering," began Ginny in friendly tones, "If Harry and Draco would like to come over for breakfast. You're invited too, of course."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure," he said. "Is Harry even here? He usually lets me know when he's over."

Ginny's face fell for a moment as the worry threatened to take control, but she quickly shoved it back down. Something strange was definitely going on, but she would see Harry soon, and they'd get to the bottom of this.

She smiled again, but Severus sat forward and she knew he wasn't fooled. She asked evenly, "Could you go and check for him, please?"

"I'll be right back," he said, and swept from the room in a flurry of robes.

Ginny kept her mind blank, focusing on the pattern of the dark green couch in front of her, focusing on the grain in the wood flooring, focusing on anything but that huge chasm inside her where she _should_ be feeling Harry.

Severus returned shortly, followed by Malfoy, but no Harry.

"I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon," Malfoy was saying as he walked in.

Severus looked down at her. "Have you tried—"

But Ginny was gone.

"Lupin's?" finished Severus.

Ginny didn't waste time when she was back in the Burrow, fully intact. She grabbed some powder from the other pot on the mantel and threw it into the fire, calling out, "12 Grimmauld Place!" She hit the ground running, darting into the kitchen to find a very startled Remus Lupin staring up at her from his morning tea. Alone. She didn't say anything; she just turned and ran up to Harry's room.

She slammed open the door and stumbled in, looking around wildly. He wasn't there. She turned to check the other rooms of the house and ran headlong into Remus, who grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and held her still.

"What's the matter?" said Remus calmly.

Ginny tried to struggle free, but Remus held her strong.

"Ginny, tell me what's the matter," Remus repeated. He heard more people coming up the stairs, but didn't turn from Ginny. He could tell she was struggling hard not to panic. Ginny didn't like to lose her cool, especially not in front of people, and especially not when it was important enough so as to cause the average person to panic. Ginny was a leader who took care of things when others could not. There was really only one thing that could cause Ginny to behave like this.

"I can't find Harry," she said, her voice hoarse. "I can't feel him through the link. I thought he was just with Malfoy…" She broke off to look at Malfoy and Severus as they entered the room. "I'm sorry, I mean 'Draco', but he wasn't there, and he's not here, and not at the Burrow, and I can't _feel _him!"

She was trembling, but swallowed hard to keep from crying, to stay calm, to maintain her control. Remus lowered his hands from her shoulders and she reached up to grab his arm to steady herself. Severus stepped forward.

"He has also blocked me out," he said evenly, holding Ginny's eye. "But the fact that you are okay says to me that he is okay. Any magic that touched him would touch you as well."

Ginny nodded, regaining her composure. Harry would be fine, of course. He was Harry. But he shouldn't block her out. Not like _this_. When she saw him again she was going to hex him for making her worry. Twins should never be separated like this, and certainly not after what they had been through.

Remus turned around. "Draco, why don't you and Ginny go through to the kitchen and have some tea. Severus and I will make a few firecalls and try to find out where Harry is."

Ginny looked to Malfoy, who nodded to her, so she followed him downstairs. "As soon as I see he's safe," she muttered, "I'm going to kill him."

Malfoy smirked over his shoulder at her. "Good," he said. "Then we'll have something to plot while we drink our tea."

XIXIX

As soon as the two teens were out of earshot, Remus turned to Severus and said, "Is this in any way normal?"

"No," Severus replied brusquely, with a condescending sneer at the question. "Normally, I can _feel_ that he is blocking the link, but now there is… a simple absence of Harry."

Remus nodded, managing not to glare at the tone. "Is it possible for him to have broken his bonds to you and Ginny?"

Severus shook his head once. "No. Well, yes, it is possible, but it would certainly have been noticeable to both of us. Not to mention extremely painful."

Remus sighed heavily. "Why do I have a bad feeling about his?" he asked rhetorically.

"Perhaps you have finally mastered deductive reasoning," Severus said dryly. Then, without waiting for a response, he added, "I will call on Albus."

He turned and swept from the room, leaving Remus seething behind him. It was far too close to the full moon to deal with Harry disappearing for a few hours, much less to work with Severus to find him. He waited a moment to follow, and was rewarded by a simple absence of _Severus_ when he reached the living room.

Kneeling down, Remus first firecalled the Burrow. Ginny seemed to have been in a rush and Remus supposed she likely had not checked with the other members of her family before running off to look for her twin. Remus found he had supposed right as the call went through.

Molly rushed into the living room, still carrying several sacks from the shops. "Oh, Remus, it's you. I was just coming in! What can I do for you?"

Remus smiled his best 'nothing is wrong' smile, and said, "I wanted to let you know that Ginny is over here, having tea with Draco."

Molly looked surprised. "Really?" she said with only a slightly disbelieving tone. "In a friendly sort of way?"

Remus nodded. "She couldn't find Harry this morning, and you know how she gets when Harry's involved. Draco's sitting with her until Harry makes his reappearance."

Molly sat down in the chair in front of him, her forehead creasing in worry. "Harry's missing? Is something wrong?" she asked.

Remus flashed his smile again. "I don't think so," he said. "He probably just wanted some time to himself and didn't think to leave a note. I'll look around for him. But if he pops by, let him know that his twin and his boyfriend are at Gimmauld Place."

"Will do," said Molly. "Have you tried the Flamels' yet? Or Hagrid's? Or maybe he went to see Arthur at work, or go see Charlie—Harry does seem to have a bit of an affinity for dragons. Or maybe—"

"Don't worry, Molly," Remus smiled. "I'm sure he's fine. Just keep an eye out, will you?"

"Of course, Remus. And tell the kids they can come over for lunch if they want."

"Okay. Bye, Molly."

"Bye, Remus."

Remus sat back and sighed, staring at the fire. He conjured himself a fat cushion for his knees. This may take awhile.

XIXIX

Severus called on Hogwarts, knowing full well that Dumbledore would be there and would very likely be able to see him immediately. He took the floo from Grimmauld Place directly to his quarters at the castle, which were spelled to allow only him, regardless of the starting location of the journey. Of course, he could have saved time by returning to Snape Manor and firecalling Dumbledore directly, but Severus found the entire firecalling process to be unpleasant and generally vulgar. Beyond that, years of service as a Death Eater Spy had trained him that one should never leave one's body unprotected so far from one's head.

Severus swept through the castle purposefully, making his way to Dumbledore's office. When he reached the gargoyle, he muttered, "Mars Bar," and the gargoyle leapt aside, freeing Severus' way to the headmaster.

The office door was open, and Dumbledore was smiling up at him from his desk. "Ah, Severus! To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

Severus paused to scowl at the headmaster's question. "I had rather hoped it would not be a surprise," he said.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Well," he said, "I am afraid that I have not achieved omniscience. Please, have a seat. Would you care for some tea?"

Severus shook his head once to decline the tea and the seat being offered, preferring to remain standing while he thought over his options. "I take it that Harry has not come to Hogwarts, then?"

"No," said the headmaster, "He has not. But I do find it curious that you should be asking me this, when you are his bondmate." It was a question and not a statement, and Severus knew that an answer was expected of him.

"He has closed his link to both Ms. Weasley and myself. Neither of us is able to ascertain his status or location. Lupin and I are searching for him in order to determine for Ms. Weasley's sake if there is indeed cause for alarm."

Dumbledore regarded Severus for a moment with eyes that well covered his worry, but Severus was no fool. Dumbledore had been protecting Harry for years, and old habits die hard. Unusual circumstances regarding Harry were always reason to worry.

But when Dumbledore spoke, his voice was light. "I am sure there is no cause for alarm, so long as his twin is in a proper and healthy condition. Harry is, after all, the strongest known wizard alive today."

"Of course," said Severus. "But he is also a boy of seventeen."

"Severus," admonished Dumbledore, shaking his head, "You more than anyone should know that Harry is anything but that."

XIXIX

"Remus, what can I do for you?" Charlie Weasley had stumbled into the sitting area of his apartment in Romania wearing his night robe and a sleepy expression.

"Are you still sleeping at this hour?" asked Remus with a friendly smile.

"Was… sleeping," Charlie smiled back. "I'm working nights this week." Remus began to stutter an apology, but Charlie waved him off, clearly used to waking up in the middle of his sleeping hours. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I've just firecalled your mum at the Burrow, and your father at work, and they both suggested I try you—"

Charlie held up his hand and shook his head. "You can tell them both that I'm not moving back. I'd love to be nearer the family, and especially Bill with the way things are with him, but my job is here, my life is here, and I've no reason…"

"It not about that," said Remus. "I was looking for Harry. I thought he might have come for a visit to see your work."

Charlie ran a hand through is hair. "No, I haven't seen Harry since his birthday. Why would he come here anyway?"

Remus shook his head. "Molly and Arthur both said he had an interest in dragons lately."

Charlie laughed. "We talked for about two minutes about my work at his party… Mum and Dad must have taken that to mean he has 'taken an interest' or something."

"I suppose. Well, if you see him…"

"Remus, why would Harry come here?" Charlie asked again.

"I don't know, Charlie," said Remus. "Ginny came over in a right state this morning because she can't tell where he is. I'm just looking around so she won't have to worry."

"Are you worried?"

Remus sighed. "I haven't decided yet."

"Well, don't," said Charlie. "Surely you noticed at the party how he stayed off by himself—hiding from friends, you know? He's got to be dealing with a lot right now. Probably just needs time to himself."

Remus smiled slightly. "He can have all the time alone he needs. I just want to know where he's spending that time alone."

Charlie ran his hand through his hair again. "Same with Bill. I know he's hurting, but he doesn't want anyone to even be there for him. He's pushing everyone away."

"How is he doing?" asked Remus seriously.

Charlie shook his head. "Not too good. Don't tell Mum, but…" he looked away for a moment, and then met Remus' eyes sadly, "I really don't know that he's going to make it through this."

They were both silent for a very long time before Remus said, "If there's anything I can do, Charlie, just let me know."

Charlie nodded. "Same here, Remus. Same here."

XIXIX

Severus stood in the Auror's office at the Ministry, keenly aware that he was being watched closely. He glanced around judgmentally, an eyebrow raised to show that he found everything about the place to be lacking. Finally, after what seemed a long time, Mad-Eye Moody limped into the reception area to stand before him.

"You asked to see me?" barked Moody.

"I did," said Severus calmly, his voice barely above a whisper. He used this voice to intimidate students. It didn't work on Moody, although Severus was pleased to note that several passing Aurors shivered and looked over.

Moody shifted his stance. "About what?"

"I would like to have a word with you," replied Severus. "In private."

Moody stood still for a few moments. His magical eye looked him up and down as though Moody were trying to determine if Severus was booby-trapped. Finally, he said, "Follow me."

Severus followed Moody down a long corridor to a small office in the back of the Department. Moody left the door open and sat at his desk with his back to the wall. Severus closed the door behind him and chose to remain standing behind the small wooden chair in front of Moody's desk.

"What do you want, Snape? You have two minutes."

Severus looked about the office. "Why did the Ministry bring you back in?" he asked idly. "Didn't they force you into retirement to begin with?"

Moody narrowed his eyes. "The retirement was voluntary, as was my return. I have more experience in _Death Eater hunting_," he emphasized, eyeing Severus once again, "Than anyone else in this department."

"And you want to make sure they do a proper job of it this time," clarified Severus in a condescending tone.

Moody just looked at him.

"Tell me," said Severus, "Do you trust the people you work for?" He paused. "_Will they_ make a proper job of it this time?"

"What do you want, Snape?"

"I want to know the protocol for dealing with Missing Persons."

Moody sat back and thought a moment before rattling off, "For children, a report can be filed instantly. For adults, if there is no immediate evidence of foul play, a report can be filed after 72 hours, at which time a team of Aurors from the Missing Persons division will do a preliminary investigation to determine if there is reason to believe the involvement of Dark magic or wizards. If there is reason to believe the involvement of Dark magic or wizards, a team will be put together for further investigations. Otherwise, a single Auror will be assigned the case. This information is all available in this handy pamphlet," Moody waved his wand and a folded piece of parchment flew off the shelf and into Severus' hands, "Which is free to the public, and easily attainable from anyone in this department. So why don't you tell me, Snape, what you are _really_ doing here."

Severus glanced over the parchment before saying in the same low voice, "What is the protocol if the person missing is Harry Potter?"

XIXIX

Ginny sipped her tea and sighed. She could never get it to taste like Remus', and she felt kind of silly going and asking him to make her tea when she had already barged into his house and practically forced him into making what seemed to be a million firecalls. She should go tell him it was no big deal. She should tell him that if she was okay, surely Harry was okay, and what did it matter if he had cut off their link so that she had this huge, gaping hole where Harry was supposed to be. It's not like it hurt or anything. And she was still able to function normally, unlike that time she had _Stupefied_ Harry and had to cut off their bond like he did during the Final Battle and she had felt all crazy and could hardly think and wasn't sure if she was making sense when she spoke…

She shook those memories out of her head. This wasn't like that at all. Surely Harry was okay. He was just gone. But he was okay.

A voice startled her. "I'm sure he's okay."

Ginny looked up at Malfoy and forced herself to nod and even smile weakly. He meant well, and that was a big thing, but Ginny still found herself suppressing scowls to Malfoy. She knew it wasn't his fault, just because she had thought Harry was with him when she realized something was wrong... She knew it wasn't his fault, but she still felt herself wanting to blame him. And that wasn't fair. It wasn't _just_.

Because her anger at him wasn't even about Harry being missing. It wasn't even about Harry. It was the fact that Draco Malfoy was... a Malfoy. They understood each other's intentions toward Harry, but they still hadn't cleared the air about some other things.

Well, they were here together. They might as well talk.

"Draco, I have to admit something to you," said Ginny by way of preamble. She wasn't really one for beating around the bush.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" he drawled in response.

Ginny shrugged and suggested, "Because it's me and we have a long history of hating each other?"

Draco nodded, acknowledging the point. "Go on," he said.

"Remember a few months ago when I told you that after my first year, with the Chamber of Secrets and Tom Riddle's diary, that I had vowed revenge against your family?"

Her voice was so calm, like she was recalling a Bat Bogey Hex, or some other minor offense, and maybe it was that calm more than anything that made Draco stiffen in his seat, readying himself to grab his wand in case she start throwing hexes.

Ginny continued. "I also told you that I rescinded that vow, but I haven't really."

Draco kept his features neutral and his eyes on Ginny's, but he was very aware of her hands, watching for any sudden movement.

"I mean, I've _tried_—I'm still trying, but… It was such a _base-level_ vow. It was fueled by pain and by near-death. And I couldn't have known then that you were going to join our side, or that I would wind up being the twin of your boyfriend. There was no reason at the time for me _not_ to have made that vow, so I can't even say that if I could go back I would _not_ make it, because that wouldn't be true."

She looked at him with such earnest eyes that he had to believe her when she continued, "I really want to rescind it, Draco, but it's just so hard. And I think that that is part of the reason we have so much trouble getting along."

Draco nodded and thought about this for a few moments. "Ginny," he said, "You told me that my father was behind your possession by Tom Riddle's diary, and I swear on everything that that was the moment that the events of my second year finally made sense to me. I knew that my father knew _something_ about the Chamber of Secrets, because he had told me to keep a low profile, and to keep my wits about me, and then when it happened… what else could he have been talking about?

"I had also overheard him talk about the Dark Lord's old diary this one night, but I only heard what he said in passing, and I never put together that the diary had anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets until you said that. There were so many rumors about what really happened, but I _swear_," he stressed,"_I did not know_. And I won't get all high and mighty saying that I would have stopped it if I had known, because Merlin knows I was such a little shit back then, but…"

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He realized then that at some point he had let his guard down because Ginny had leaned forward and touched his hand and he had let her without worrying that she would try to exact her revenge.

"I believe you that he was behind it," Draco said, "Because his whole life was like that. And that was why I left my family. And that was why I chose to save my godfather, even though it meant killing my own blood."

Draco was shaking. He looked away, brushing his hair back behind his ears, trying to hide in movement that his fingers were trembling. "I don't blame you for your trouble with the vow," he said quickly. "But I don't want to talk about my father anymore, okay?"

Ginny nodded and whispered, "I think the vow is broken now, thank you."

They didn't meet each other's eyes for a long time. They sat there in silence, absorbing the words they had just spoken.

Then Ginny said, "The tea is cold; do you want more?"

Draco nodded and watched as Ginny busied herself with the preparations.

"Are you really going to hurt Harry when he gets back?" he asked devilishly.

Ginny looked over her shoulder, confused for a moment, but then she grinned. "Probably not, although I'd sure like to. Right now, at this moment, I'm just so worried, that if he came in through the floo I'd be willing to forget the whole thing so long as he promised never to do it again."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "That does _not_ sound like Ginny Weasley, leader of the DA and adored Queen of Hogwarts."

"Queen of Hog…?" Ginny made a face. "No one really calls me that, right?"

Draco shrugged. "Okay, no one really calls you that." He was silent for a moment before adding, "But they should."

Ginny gasped in mock-outrage and threw a hand towel at Draco, who jumped out of his seat to dodge it as though it were a cursed item. Ginny snatched up an oven mitt and prepared to throw that as well, but then the two froze. Ginny still had the oven mitt raised over her head.

She turned toward the door abruptly, listening to the sound of rushing air in the other room. "Was that the floo?" she asked.

"I think it was," said Draco. "Do you think it's…?"

But Ginny was already out the door, with Draco close behind her.

They hadn't gotten very far, though, when they heard a murmur of voices, neither of which was Harry's. They didn't stop to consult each other. They both decided independently to wait out in the hall a moment to see what they could find out.

XIXIX

Remus sat back against the sofa in the living room and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had been unable to locate the Flamels, who were off traveling Merlin knows where.

Hearing a rush in the fireplace, Remus looked up expectantly and was disappointed to see that it was only Severus. Remus closed his eyes again and continued to rub them. The smoke from the fire, or the powder, one, was beginning to irritate his eyes, which were more sensitive at this time of the month anyway.

"Lupin," demanded Severus impatiently, towering over him, "Has it never occurred to you, now that the Order has been dissolved, to alter the wards so as to allow people to apparate into this house?"

"Yes, Severus, it has," said Remus with a markedly patient tone. "However, this is not _my_ house to make such changes."

Severus sniffed. He was well aware that Harry did not consider himself to own the house.

"Anyway," Remus continued wearily, "It's safer for Harry if people can't apparate in."

"I see," said Severus. "Your focus has been on Harry's safety. Remarkable job."

Remus dropped his hand to his lap and glared up at the Potions Master. "I could say the same to you," he said. "Magnificent job keeping your bondmate safe."

Severus continued to glare down at him. Remus pulled himself to his feet and stood across the room. He could almost smell the tension in the air, and was conscious that he and Severus were both upset about a morning's fruitless search and were liable to take it out on each other. Standing up would be more threatening than sitting down, but Remus found he didn't much care for the way Severus seemed to _loom_ over him.

It was too close to the full moon for this.

Remus looked down and took a deep breath before beginning again in a nicer tone. "I've tried Molly and Arthur, Charlie, and Tonks."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Moody had not mentioned Remus' call to Tonks, which may only indicate that he had not yet known of the call, or which may indicate that he still did not trust Severus further than he could throw Snape Manor.

Remus continued, "I've been unable to track down the Flamels, although I am sure that if Harry were with them, Perenelle would make sure he let us know. Molly firecalled a few minutes ago to say that Ron was missing too, but I found him at Hagrid's. Neither of them has seen Harry either." He looked to Severus expectantly.

Severus looked on Remus distastefully. "I notice you have checked with every obvious place Harry might visit."

Remus was silent. He didn't like the sound of that.

"However," Severus continued, "If Harry were going to go to the trouble of blocking the links to his bondmates so completely, wouldn't it stand to reason that he would not go somewhere he could easily be found?"

Remus squared his stance. "What are you saying, Severus?"

"I am saying that Harry is the most powerful wizard in the world, and a legal adult. I have also just been told by an anonymous source that the Ministry has classified Harry for all official purposes in the same manner as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, meaning that his privacy, and all files pertaining to him, in _any_ department, are strictly protected from all but the uppermost Ministry officials."

"But…" Remus furrowed his brow, thinking fast. "But why?"

"Because he is Harry Potter," said Severus slowly, as though he were speaking to an infant. "But what this means in practical terms is that he can disappear at any point for any length of time, and unless we find a note written in his handwriting in his _blood_ saying, 'Help me I am being abducted and am incapable of protecting myself,' there is nothing _official_ that can be done by any department within the Ministry to look for him, as it would be an invasion of Harry's privacy—an offense punishable by employment termination and mental obliviation of all memories pertaining to Harry."

Remus sat down heavily on the sofa. "Are you telling me," he said, "That Harry is out there, alone and unprotected—"

"He is hardly helpless, Lupin," hissed Severus.

Remus continued as though he hadn't heard him, "And the Ministry will do nothing about it?"

Severus was silent. The answer was obvious.

"And Harry knows about this?" asked Remus.

"I would presume as much," answered Severus. "In fact I find it likely that Harry _requested_ as much from the Ministry during that four-hour meeting he will tell no one about."

"You think this is Harry's doing..." Remus stood again, this time much closer to the Potions Master. "Who told you this?" he demanded.

"Someone who spoke only on the condition of absolute anonymity."

Remus shot him a look. "An old colleague?" he growled.

Severus sniffed again. "Hardly."

The two men glared at each other.

Remus took a step forward. "You don't mean to find him, do you?"

Severus glowered at him. "If Harry _wanted_ to be found he need only open his link to one of his bondmates."

"You don't know what Harry wants," said Remus dangerously.

Severus stepped forward as well. "Try me."

"If you know where he is…" threatened Remus.

"If I knew where he was," Severus interrupted, "I would not be wasting my time here with a washed up, flea-bitten…"

"How dare you?" growled Remus. "How dare _you_ insult _me_?"

"I find it's not much of a stretch at all, actually," Severus replied angrily. "You treat Harry like he's still a child—some weak babe who can't survive on his own. He doesn't _need_ you, Lupin."

"But he needs you?" Remus challenged. "Of course! Just like _James_ never did! Yeah, I see the way you look at him. How does it _feel_, Severus, to be bonded to James and Lily's son? To finally be that close to getting what you've longed for your whole god-forsaken life?"

Severus took another step, right up into Remus' personal space and the two men began circling each other. His face and voice were venomous as he whispered, "Do you take me for a fool, Lupin? You think you can cover your desperation—your jealousy? The lonely old werewolf… waiting all alone… for someone… to love him…"

A moment before they lunged at each other, Ginny stepped in and shouted, "STOP!"

The two men froze and turned to the doorway where Ginny and Draco stood staring at them. Draco's face was blank, and Severus silently cursed, knowing his godson would never understand the extent of the history behind the words he had just overheard. He would only think that perhaps he had been right in his jealousy of Severus' relationship to Harry. Because Draco hadn't been there, and no one could ever explain…

Ginny walked into the room determinedly, right between the two men who had been inches away from tearing each other apart over old rivalries. She looked back and forth between them, and said calmly, "Fighting won't bring Harry back, so I suggest the two of you find a more productive way to work through your worry." She looked between them one more time before turning back to Draco. "I'm going home for lunch," she announced. "Would you care to join me, Draco?"

Draco nodded and followed Ginny to the floo without saying a word to either man.

Severus stared at the fireplace for a moment after they had gone. He would have to talk to Draco later. At least, he would have to _try._

"I'll be at the Manor," said the Potions Master brusquely. And then he was gone as well.

Remus stood alone for some time, trying to decide what to do next. He would still look for Harry of course, but he would need to bring someone else in on the search, someone who knew Harry well. It couldn't be Ginny now, so there was really only one other choice.

TO BE CONTINUED…

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Hey, I'm thinking at this point that most of the chapters in this story are going to be long, so I think I'm going to split them into parts where applicable in order to get them out to you quicker. Do I have any strident protests? Exclamations of outrage? Feeble suggestions of, "I'd rather you not..."?

Anyway, more coming soon. In the meantime, please review! What? Why should you? Umm... How about—the better the reviews, the better the upcoming sex scene. How's that for incentive? Heh?

Paddycakepadfoot: LOL! "Holy Cheese Enchiladas" !

Thank you to all of my reviewers! Love you muchly!


	4. Search for the Lost, Part II

X

XIX

XIXIX "Search for the Lost, Part II" XIXIX

Hermione was stretched across her bed next to Luna, reading wizarding magazines and newspapers. Hermione fancied herself to be rather good at reading between the lines of the publications, gleaning out bits and pieces of truth about the state of the world. But Luna insisted that since the world was full of misconceptions, half-truths, and slander, that one could find truth simply by taking any publication at face value.

She had brought over a stack of diverse reading materials so that they could spend the day testing their theories. At least, that was her excuse. She had actually come over to wait with Hermione for a potential visitor Hermione had uncertainly predicted the day before. Hermione wasn't fooled, but she also didn't mind.

Luna had taken to spending a lot of days over at Hermione's house since her boyfriend, Vincent Crabbe, had been sentenced to 100 days in Azkaban. And since Hermione's own boyfriend had been suspiciously _absent_ to her this summer, she and Luna had something to bond over. There was comfort in their mutual loneliness, and there was understanding between them.

It was nice, actually. Hermione could tell Luna about her Seer ability—from the vivid visions to the vague feelings to the convoluted dreams. Luna understood the jumbled language Hermione used when speaking about her power, regardless of the fact that she had never experienced Sight herself. Luna herself spoke about dreams and reality with a fluidity that knocked down barriers between the two, and Hermione found herself liking that more and more as time went on.

Hermione's parents, who were muggle dentists, didn't quite know what to make of Luna Lovegood, since she was prone to talking about very strange things. Granted, having a witch for a daughter, they were used to hearing about unbelievable characters and events, but Hermione's stories were decidedly tame compared to Luna's tall tales. Plus, Hermione's parents fancied that they could tell when Hermione was pulling their leg, but Luna always seemed so certain about everything she said, regardless of the fantastical topics.

Hermione sighed deeply as she looked up at the clock. It was lunchtime, which meant that her father was sure to call soon to see if Luna was over and would be staying for dinner. He always said she was welcome, but Hermione knew from his tone of voice that she was not.

"When do you think he'll show up?" asked Luna.

Hermione turned to her and shrugged. "I don't even know that anyone's going to come. I'm not actually very good at predicting things, you know."

"I came," Luna reminded. Hermione smiled until Luna continued, "But I think someone else will turn up today, too. Very likely Ron. Although maybe Harry. Or even Victor, who knows?"

Hermione made a face. "I hope not Victor. I'm not ready to see him just yet."

"He sent you flowers in hospital, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but…"

"There you go. See? He was trying to make amends. You could have at least written him."

"He could have at least written me," grumbled Hermione.

"He wrote a card," Luna pointed out.

"No. He wrote 'Victor' on a card. And you know, as one word cards go, that's not even a good word." Hermione turned back to her magazine and Luna laughed.

"All the same," said Luna, "Someone will turn up. In fact, I'm sure of it. I had a dream last night that said today would be 'one of those days'."

"One of what days?"

"Well that's up to us, now isn't it?" Luna said sagely with a conspiratorial smile.

Hermione grinned in return. "I don't think it counts as Sight if it's a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Then why did you write me?" asked Luna.

"Why did you come round today?" countered Hermione.

Luna leaned forward to answer, but the two froze when they heard a knock on the door downstairs. They looked at each other for two seconds before Luna whispered, "It's him."

"It's probably the postman," Hermione whispered back.

"You should answer it," said Luna.

Still, Hermione hesitated, unsure of what it would mean to have this prediction come true. Luna studied her eyes for only another moment before throwing down her magazine and heading to the front door.

There was another knock as Luna pulled the door open, revealing her former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor with his knuckles outstretched.

"Professor Lupin," gasped Luna, wide-eyed as though she wasn't sure he truly existed. "What brings you here?"

"Luna," said Remus uncertainly. "Hi, I didn't expect to see… Is Hermione here?"

Hermione was just coming around behind Luna, who turned to her and said, "It's for you," as though there had been any question of that.

Hermione froze next to Luna, looking at Remus in shock. "Remus?" she said. She turned to Luna—almost apologetically, Remus thought. He stared at the girls, watching as an unspoken conversation played itself out between them. After a moment, Luna turned and walked to the living room.

Hermione watched after her, but then looked to Remus and his grim expression. "Harry?" she asked.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "You knew?"

"No," sighed Hermione. "Would you like to come in?"

She stepped back and Remus entered, looking around the muggle house. It was very tidy and orderly, without a trace of magic anywhere. He wondered for a moment if Hermione ever got bored there during the holidays, but then he suspected that maybe that was the reason Luna Lovegood was over.

"He's gone missing," said Remus by way of explanation as they walked through to the living room. "Do you know where he is?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I haven't seen him. But he'll be back. He can't be gone forever yet. There is a lot that hasn't happened yet where Harry's concerned. At least," she smiled, "_I think_ there is."

"You believe it, though?" Remus clarified.

"I do," said Hermione. She paused. "But you're going to look for him anyway, aren't you?"

Remus smiled vaguely, thinking back for a moment to his interaction with Severus. "Yes, I am," he said. "I have to."

"Okay," said Hermione. "I'll come with you."

"Do you w—? Yes, of course. I was going to ask, actually." He turned to Luna to see if she wanted to come as well, but the question died on his lips when he saw the look on her face. She was studying them both critically. He had never seen Luna look so intense before, like she was angry or jealous or bitter. But then the moment passed and she smiled brightly.

"I have to go home," she announced to Hermione.

Hermione's face fell. "Luna," she said, "This doesn't necessarily mean…" She trailed off when Luna shook her head slightly. Remus didn't know to what they were referring, but from their brief interaction, he realized that 'this' _did_ necessarily mean whatever it was that Hermione was arguing against. Hermione nodded and looked away, conceding defeat.

"But do you think your parents would mind if I borrowed the vacuum cleaner?" Luna asked, making Hermione smile again.

"Sure, Luna. You can bring it back next time you come round."

Luna left to retrieve the vacuum cleaner and Remus asked in a soft voice, "What was that all about?"

"She likes to vacuum," Hermione answered lightly, but Remus noticed that she didn't quite meet his eye. "She saw my mom doing it one Saturday and was fascinated by the machine. Most days she's over here she vacuums at least my room, and once she did the whole house. She said her dad would love to have a go."

Remus laughed, but said, "I wasn't referring to that. What did you mean when…?"

"Where do you want to begin looking?" Hermione interrupted, and Remus let the subject drop, as Hermione obviously did not feel like sharing whatever had passed between herself and Luna.

Luna reentered at that point with the vacuum cleaner in tow. "I'll see you later, 'Mione," she said. "Good luck with… well, everything." The girls hugged goodbye, and Remus was left with the distinct feeling that he was missing something.

"Do you need a lift home?" asked Remus.

"No thanks," said Luna. "The Quibbler has got dozens of portkeys for the reporters, so wherever they are they can always get to the editor's office. Dad gave me one, so I can floo home from there." She held up a broken telephone receiver. "Bye, Hermione," she said.

"Bye, Luna."

Luna smiled again, and then she, the broken telephone receiver, and the vacuum cleaner were gone.

"So," Hermione turned to her former professor. Her tone was all business as she questioned, "Was Harry abducted, or did he leave freely?"

Remus rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Where was he last seen?"

"In his bedroom last night, before I went to bed."

"Were there any signs of struggle?"

"No."

"Any reason to believe that a Dark wizard more powerful than Voldemort was in his bedroom?"

"No."

"And he hasn't contacted Ginny or Professor Snape?"

"No, and they can't contact him, which is why Ginny is so worried."

"Did he say or do anything unusual yesterday? I mean… unusual for Harry," she clarified.

"No," said Remus. "Nobody saw this coming. Unless you…"

"No," said Hermione quickly. Remus noticed she was blushing slightly. "I saw _something_ coming, but I didn't know about this." She paused and looked as though she were trying to decide if she should say what was on her mind. When she spoke again, it was in the apologetically certain voice Hermione used when she didn't want to be right. "It is pretty obvious, though, that something's going on with Harry that he's not telling anyone."

They were silent for a long time before Remus said, "He left on his own, then, didn't he?" finally admitting it to himself.

Hermione worried her lip. "Honestly, Remus, at this point… I don't think there is anyone on Earth, not even Ginny, who could make Harry do _anything_ he didn't want to do."

Remus was quiet. It all pointed to Harry's having left of his own volition. And if that were the case, then he would doubtfully want Remus chasing after him. But this was just so _unlike_ Harry. And that really made Remus' protective instincts kick in.

"So," said Hermione, looking up at him. "We'll start at Diagon Alley. Ask around and see if anyone saw him picking up supplies, and if so what. And maybe from there we can try to figure out where he might have gone."

She smiled up at Remus and he knew that Hermione, at least, understood.

The phone began to ring but Hermione looked at it as though she would rather do anything in the world than answer it. "Well, let's go," she said.

XIXIX

Ginny and Draco sat across the kitchen table from each other, not saying anything. Neither had touched the sandwiches Molly had made for them. Ginny looked as though she were made out of steel, so set were her features. Draco found he didn't have much of an appetite that day in general, but a leaden weight had taken over his stomach while he had listened to Professors Snape and Lupin hiss at each other like children, throwing out accusations that were as sickening as they were untrue.

Except that Draco was still working on convincing himself about the 'untrue' part.

There wasn't anything to do. Draco wanted to distract himself from the thoughts rushing through his mind, from the heavy uncertainty about Harry that had settled in his gut and in his heart, but he couldn't dredge up enough concentration to do much of anything except stare at the large burn mark on the cabinet under sink, which was no doubt due to an early childhood prank-turned-explosion by one, or maybe both, of the Weasley twins.

"This is all my fault."

It was barely a whisper, and Draco wasn't sure at first if he had really heard it. And when he looked up at Ginny, she was so deep in her reverie that his suspicions were immediately confirmed that he was hearing things. So it surprised him to hear his own voice question, "Hm?"

Ginny startled at the noise, but then looked at Draco with dawning comprehension. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I must have said that out loud."

"It's not your fault, Ginny," he said, dismissing her apology. "He left on his own."

"I know," she said earnestly. "That's the whole point. He left to get away from me." She was silent for another moment, and then continued distractedly, "Merlin, I must have been driving him crazy for him to resort to this. Why didn't he ever say anything?"

Draco couldn't help himself. He smirked. "You think he left to get away from you?"

Ginny scowled at his condescending tone. "Why else would he? He's not in any danger. He doesn't need anything. It's me. He's trying to build up a tolerance to being away from me."

"Get over yourself," said Draco, his voice somewhere between snide and friendly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ginny quipped. She leaned forward and started ticking off proofs on her fingers. "He never told me about that meeting at the Ministry. He never told me he had been granted that 'Unspeakable status'. He wants to be able to spend more time with you without freaking out about being away from me. He gets all pissed off whenever I confront him about closing his link. He… oh Merlin, what if he's trying to break our bond?"

"Whoa, lady," said Draco, holding up his hands as though afraid she was out of control. Ginny made a face at him. "He's not trying to break your bond," Draco continued, as though that were the most obvious thing in the world. "And he didn't leave because of you, and he certainly didn't leave because he wants to spend more time with _me_, seeing as how he left _me_ behind."

Ginny's shoulders sagged slightly. "Why didn't he tell me about the Unspeakable thing? He used to tell me everything, you know."

"Lucky you," said Draco dryly. "He's never really told me anything."

Ginny continued as though she hadn't heard him. "I _do_ want him to be happy, but it just seems that if he needs space from me… space to himself…" She reached back and grabbed her long braid of hair and fingered it distractedly. "Why wouldn't he just tell me? I'd do just about anything for him."

"Something else is going on, Ginny. You know that."

Ginny exhaled. "Yeah." They both stared at the table between them. "Any idea what?"

Draco shook his head. "No." They were silent again, until Draco asked, "Normally, though, you know where he is and what he's doing at all times, right?"

Ginny's features set again as she was reminded once more that her connection to Harry was completely mute. "Right," she said.

"Like, even when we're…" he trailed off significantly. Ginny caught his meaning.

"Yeah, we figured that one out early on in our bond."

"So he blocks it out, then?"

Ginny nodded. "Mm-hmm. But not completely. Not like this. I still know where he is. I still know how he is, generally speaking."

"You know he's with me?"

"Yeah."

"Is he sleeping with my godfather?"

Ginny looked up at him sharply. "No! Where did you get—oh, right." Remus had pretty much accused Severus of it. She looked away, but then shook her head. "No. He's not. They're close, but it's really not like that."

Draco noticed she wasn't quite meeting his eye. "Would you tell me if he was?"

Ginny was silent, her brow narrowed.

"Would you?" he asked again.

"I'm thinking," she said. She was silent for awhile longer, which made Draco quite uncomfortable as his imagination ran wild with all the things Harry might be doing behind his back. Then, Ginny said, "No. I wouldn't. But I'd try to make him tell you." She glared at him slightly. "Would _you_ tell _him_?"

Draco looked away. He knew he had gotten off rather easily before. It really was only a matter of time before his indiscretions came up again. He started and stopped several times before finally beginning.

"You were unconscious for a long time. We didn't know if you were going to make it, and after so many other people had died…" Draco stood up and refilled his empty glass with water. He leaned against the counter, not able to look at Ginny while he said this. "I was so sure that when I took Harry out on the battlefield to look for you, going straight to what was very certainly a trap set up by the Dark Lord, that I was signing my death warrant. If the Dark Lord didn't kill me, I knew my father would, but…"

He turned back around and faced Ginny, although he still didn't meet her eyes. "It seemed cruel that I had lived and Harry was going to die. I kept trying to tell myself it didn't matter, that it was just sex anyway, and I tried to prove it. But I just kept going back to see if he would wake up. You two were curled up together, and sometimes I hated him because he chose you. Because we went out there for you…"

"He chose you, Draco," said Ginny earnestly.

Draco shook his head. "It's a romantic thought, and I'll believe it again after Harry's back. But right now? He bonded with you, and he bonded with Severus…"

"And now he's blocked that bond. He doesn't want to be my twin anymore." Ginny said this quietly, but her voice cut like a knife. It was a voice that spoke an immensely painful truth.

Except that Draco didn't believe for a second that it _was_ truth.

"He told me just last week that he's rather die than be apart from you," he said.

Ginny didn't look up. "Then where is he?"

XIXIX

Remus and Hermione apparated to Londonand poked around Diagon Alley for a few hours before anything unusual happened. The trip was quite uneventful, in fact, until they stepped out of Gringotts, where the goblins had been quite firm in refusing to reveal any information about the recent transactions of any of their clients.

"Merlin, and I thought _Severus_ could be rude," muttered Remus as they entered the sunlit street.

Hermione sighed, looking as though she couldn't decide if she should stick up for her professor or ignore the comment completely. "Well," she said, deciding to move on, "To be fair, it _is_ a good business policy, but the least they could do is…"

But Hermione never got to tell Remus what was the least the goblins of Gringotts could do, because just then they found themselves at the business end of four wands.

Hermione moved to draw her wand, but Remus was faster. He didn't draw his own wand, though, he simply stepped in front of Hermione, pushing her arm down before it could be raised threateningly against their aggressors.

"It's okay," he growled. "Don't raise your wand. We are in no danger."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she turned her focus from the three wizards and one witch to Remus, simply out of shock. "Remus," she hissed, "What is going on?"

The witch stepped forward. "Remus Lupin," she said officiously, "As a werewolf, this is a dangerously public place for you to visit so close to the full moon." She eyed Hermione to see if there was any reaction to her revelation that her companion was a lycanthrope, but Hermione only narrowed her eyes.

"The full moon isn't until _tomorrow_ night, lady," she snapped protectively over Remus' shoulder. "And who the hell are you to—"

"The latest studies have shown," interrupted the witch, "That werewolves have heightened aggression, sensory perception and numerous other wolf-like manifestations in the 48 hours surrounding the three nights of the full moon, and should be considered _dangerous_ for the entire week of their change."

Remus and Hermione began to speak at once.

Hermione demanded, "What latest studies?"

Remus accused, "Officials from the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures are required to display identification when approaching any beast or being on official department business, _prior to_ any threatening movements, such as drawing wands. I will need to see identification for each of you, so that I can file a report with your superiors."

The witch sniffed, only now lowering her wand, and only slightly. "You are in a dangerous state, Lupin," she spat, "And in a dangerous position. Any more threats of that nature, and we will be forced to bring you in."

"You will _not_!" shot Hermione. "He's done nothing wrong!"

"Hermione, stop!" commanded Remus. "There's nothing to be done right now."

"Remus…" she began, but was interrupted again when one of the wizards stepped forward, lowering his wand.

"Hermione?" He studied her features and said breathlessly, "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you?"

Hermione turned to him. "Do I know you?" she asked snidely.

The wizard flushed red. "Oh, no. I'm nobody really, just a fan. You're that Seer friend of Harry Potter's, aren't you?"

Hermione gaped at him, and opened and closed her mouth several times without coming up with any words.

"I read all about you," he continued, turning to his companions to see if they shared in his enthusiasm, and noting that even the witch reluctantly did. "You figured out that there was a whole history of prophecies for the Final Battle, and you told Harry Potter exactly what he needed to do to defeat You-Know-Who!"

"Is it true that you allowed yourself to be captured by Death Eaters because you had had a dream about Harry Potter rescuing you?" asked another wizard excitedly.

"What! No!" said Hermione, but they weren't even listening to her.

"I heard that you led Harry Potter straight to You-Know-Who, and then stood before You-Know-Who and told him that this was the moment of his downfall, but he didn't believe you and then Harry Potter did everything exactly as you had just said…"

Remus stood off to the side now, quite forgotten by the officials that had been sent to harass him. Hermione was flushed scarlet, and couldn't string enough words together to form a sentence to save her life. She looked over to Remus pleadingly, so he pushed forward and took her hand in his. But as soon as he touched her, she was blinded by a vision of him.

_His shoulder was hurt. His shirt was undone. He was sweating and his breath was harsh. "Hermione," he said, and she shivered, afraid._

Hermione pulled her hand away and turned to Remus in shock. She was cold all over despite the summer heat, and found herself shivering as she had been in the vision. He leaned down, concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"What did you do to her!" demanded the witch, glaring again at Remus.

"Nothing!" shot Hermione. "Nothing. I just, ah, I just had another vision and I need Remus to take me home. So if you've finished, may we go, please?"

"Is there anything we can do?" asked the wizard who had recognized her anxiously.

"No, I'll be okay," said Hermione faintly, putting her hand to her head. "I just need to lay down. Remus, can we please go now?"

Remus looked to the officials that had stopped him and raised both eyebrows in question.

"We'll let you go with a warning this time, Lupin," said the witch. "Take care that this doesn't happen again."

"And take care of Ms. Granger," added Hermione's fan kindly.

Remus nodded and put his hand to Hermione's back to lead her away from the officials and back toward the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione relied on his support for a ways, but when she turned to look back and saw they were not being followed, she walked more strongly.

"May I ask what you Saw?" asked Remus when he thought she might answer.

"You were hurt," she replied tersely. "Don't worry, it wasn't anything bad."

She kept walking and something about the purpose of her stride hinted to Remus that he ought not ask for more information than that. The last time he had seen Hermione this angry, she was in the Shrieking Shack, accusing him of conspiring with Sirius in order to kill Harry. She had seemed formidable then, even at thirteen, but now Hermione seemed a force to be reckoned with.

She didn't pause until she was on the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron. Standing just inside the limits of the anti-muggle charms placed on the building, Hermione turned to pierce Remus with her fury. "Does this happen every month?" she demanded.

Remus sighed and leaned against the wall. "Lately, yes," he admitted. "A lot of the laws have been recently changed. It's not legal for them to approach me at wandpoint like that, but punishment for violators has, I'm sure, been greatly relaxed. Damn though I wish I had gotten their identification." His voice was tired, weary.

Hermione shot him a look. "How can you be so relaxed about being harassed like that!"

"It's been worse," he said sternly, hoping to temper her anger with his 'teacher's voice.' It didn't work.

"They have no right—!" she began, but he cut her off.

"Hermione," he groaned, leaning his head back against the wall and looking up into the mid-afternoon sky, "Just stop. It is what it is. And it's over for now."

Hermione huffed and looked away, clearly exasperated. Muggles walked past, their eyes sliding around them without noticing, their ears immune to their conversation.

Remus smirked down at her. "And anyway," he kidded, "You were able to save me from arrest by flaunting your fame like that."

Hermione shot him another look, but this time Remus laughed. Hermione, who didn't find it nearly as amusing, leaned against the wall next to him in defeat. "I just don't get it, Remus," she said, shaking her head.

"How famous you are for your part in the war?"

"No," she said dryly. "How you can be so complacent about their treatment of you. I mean, the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures should be _taking care_ of werewolves; they shouldn't be bullying them for no reason."

"They're trying to regulate and control us, is all," Remus sighed. "It's nothing new, really. It's never exactly been easy."

"Well sure, granted. But the last thing werewolves need is hassle from the very people who should be most dedicated to protecting them!"

"Why don't you change things, then, Hermione?" said Remus with light sarcasm. "As a Seer of such terrific repute, you certainly had an amazing effect on them."

Hermione just narrowed her eyes. "You know, Remus," she said matter-of-factly, "If you're going to try to change the subject, it would work better if you chose a subject I actually _wanted_ to talk about."

Remus grinned. "Caught me. But why don't you want to talk about your Sight?"

Hermione looked at him knowingly and said, "Because my power isn't very strong, or reliable—and I don't trust it, and that has gotten me into more trouble than anything—but I can't trust it because it isn't strong or reliable."

Remus looked genuinely shocked. "How can you say that after all the help you gave Harry during the war?"

Hermione's face clouded with guilt. "Because I didn't…" She was silent for a time. Then, she rolled her eyes and said, "Fine. You've successfully changed the subject, but I still don't want to talk about this."

Remus leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Hermione smiled warily up at him.

"You look like shit, Remus. Have you eaten today?"

Remus raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes closed. "Why, thank you, Hermione. And no, not really, as a matter of fact. I kind of got caught up looking for Harry."

Hermione studied him. "I think you use Harry as an excuse not to take care of yourself," she said. "And you can't do that, and certainly not this close to a full moon."

Remus smirked. "Yes, mother."

"Don't give me that," Hermione muttered. "You sound like Ron." That didn't sound like a compliment, so Remus cracked an eye open and looked back down at her.

"How are you and Ron doing, anyway?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. "Once again," she said, "Try to change the subject to something I _want_ to talk about."

XIXIX

XIX

X

TO BE CONTINUED (again)…

A/N: Okay, a three-part chapter. But I promise it will be no more than that. I needed to broaden the scope of the story beyond Harry. Expect the last part within the week. How is this for you guys anyway? Storyline progressing too slowly with these pieces of chapters? Or do you prefer to have more frequent updates like this? Need more slash? I agree to that, and trust me, there will be a lot in this story. Promise. And I hold to my incentive of better sex if you click that button below. It's all in Part III.

Questions? Comments?

Thank you to my reviewers. You deserve cheesecake.


	5. Search for the Lost, Part III

X

XIX

XIXIX "Search for the Lost, Part III" XIXIX

Harry's room was still empty, but that didn't quite come as a surprise. Remus had insisted they stop back at Grimmauld Place, just to see if Harry had come home for dinner. Hermione hadn't expected him to be there, but she said nothing and the two had flooed over from the Leaky Cauldron.

"The problem" said Remus"Is that there's not a specific threat for us to look into. Harry could be anywhere."

Hermione didn't respond as she looked around the bedroom. Nothing was specifically out of order. Harry's things were just as messy as they normally would be. His bed wasn't made. His clothes were on the floor. His school books were strewn on and around his desk where he had been doing his summer homework. Nothing looked unfinished, or hurriedly left behind. There were no signs of struggle, or even… discontent. It was just Harry's bedroom as it looked normally.

"When did he remove the portraits" she asked eventually. She hadn't noticed before now. There were no paintings on the walls. No one to eavesdrop. No one to witness a disappearing act.

Remus looked up. "Not too long after summer began" he said. "I hadn't thought much of it at the time. He and Draco spent so much time in here anyway. I just figured they wanted privacy."

Hermione nodded. "And maybe that's all the reason" she admitted. "The portraits were moved upstairs"

"Buckbeak's old room. It's been a storage room since we set him free last summer."

Hermione smiled, remembering. "Ron was so sad after he left. He made me promise not to tell Hagrid that he had actually grown fond of one of his monsters."

"Are Ron and Harry still close at all? Ron hasn't been by much this summer." Remus knew he was treading on a sore subject, but he thought it might be okay to slip Ron into the conversation if the conversation was still focused on Harry.

"Ron's not close to anyone right now" said Hermione sadly. "He tries to act normal around his parents, but I don't think he likes people much nowadays."

"What about you"

"I like some people" she mused.

Remus cut her a look and Hermione gave him a half-hearted grin before sighing.

"Well" she said with forced nonchalance"My parents don't like me leaving the house alone, so I really don't see anyone unless they come by, and Harry doesn't generally go anywhere without either Ginny or Draco, so we haven't seen each other alone all summer. Not much quality time there."

"And you and Ron" Remus prodded.

Hermione picked up one of Harry's books off his desk and flipped through it. "I already changed that subject" she said. "What about you? Any idea what's going on"

"No." Remus looked highly put out about this. "And I see him every day. It's as though Harry's hiding from everyone in plain sight."

XIXIX

At the Burrow, Remus tried to enlist more people to search for Harry. Hermione finally voiced that she didn't think it was a very good idea that he be out at all, what with the Department of Magical-Creature-Bullying out an about. And Ginny and Draco were adamant that they were not going to look for Harry.

"He obviously wants time to himself" said Draco, and Ginny agreed. Remus was no expert, but it was quite clear that the two teens had both reached the conclusion that Harry had left on his own, and they were both very hurt about that decision.

Regardless, everyone seemed to be of the mind that it was apparent that Harry had left on his own, and that looking for him would be futile. Remus ran out of arguments and had finally given in.

Hermione was politely declining an invitation to dinner from Molly when there was a rush in the fireplace, and Ron stepped into the living room. He and Hermione paused noticeably before stepping forward to kiss each other hello.

"Where were you today" asked Hermione.

"Hagrid's. I'm doing some research on magical creatures. The man knows everything, I swear." The light tone of his voice didn't match the dullness in his eyes.

"You should have come by today" said Hermione, a twinge of sadness in her voice. "Today would have been a good day for that."

"Yeah, I meant to" Ron replied. "But I kind of lost track of time."

They stared at each other for a moment until Molly piped up"I was just inviting Hermione for dinner."

"Yeah" said Ron, reaching out to touch her arm affectionately. "You should stay."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm expected home for dinner."

"Oh. I'll come by tomorrow, then" he said, but Hermione nodded as though she didn't quite believe he would.

XIXIX

Draco and Ginny headed back to Snape Manor shortly thereafter. Severus was waiting in the living room.

"Draco" he said, as soon as Draco stepped through the floo. By the tone of his voice, Draco knew that they were about to have 'a talk', and he was quite relieved that Ginny stepped through the floo directly behind him.

Severus nodded to her. "Ms. Weasley."

Ginny nodded back. "Professor."

"I invited Ginny over so we'd be in the same place whenever Harry returned. We thought he would likely search out one of us, but we'd both like to see him.

Severus nodded formally. "Would either of you care for some dinner" he asked. "I can have the house elves cook up something…"

"No, thank you" said Draco, and not unkindly. "We'll be in my room if you need us."

They turned to walk on but Severus said again"Draco." Ginny and Draco both turned and Severus regarded the two of them. They had both overheard. They both deserved an explanation, he reasoned. "About earlier…"

Draco said immediately"We had no right to eavesdrop like that, I apologize."

"Me too" said Ginny.

Severus scowled, and paying their apologies no mind, he said"I fear you may have misunderstood some of what was said."

"Very likely" agreed Draco. "But" he said, choosing his words carefully"There are many mysteries in life. One more will not hurt me." He shared a gaze with Severus, who understood there would be no ill will between them. Severus nodded at that.

"I'll be in my laboratory" he said, and the three parted company.

In Draco's room, Ginny began poking around. She had wanted to in the past, but hadn't felt comfortable enough with Draco in order to look through his things. But today she did, so she did. Draco cut her a look, which she ignored.

"No, no, I insist. Go ahead and touch as many of my things as you like" he said with mock hospitality as he fell backward onto his bed.

"Don't mind if I do" answered Ginny glibly. "How much time do you spend grooming yourself, anyway" she asked as she looked through his closet.

"I don't know" he said. "As much time is needed. It's important to look good."

"Apparently" said Ginny, pulling out one particularly impressive set of robes. "I can't believe you have so many clothes."

"That's not even half of it" said Draco. "Most of my things were still at home when I refused to leave Hogwarts this Spring. I don't know what happened to all of it. I'm not allowed back to the Manor."

"You don't seem to be hurting for things" she pointed out.

"I suppose not" sighed Draco. "Ginny, what are you going to do after you graduate"

She turned from the closet and began studying the books and items on his shelves. "Not sure" she said. "I've wanted to be an Auror forever, but I think I'd be good in politics as well."

"No fancy dreams of Quidditch stardom" he teased.

Ginny laughed, picking up a golden snitch from his shelf. She looked at it closely, but did not activate it. "Nah. It would get old. I want to do something _meaningful_, you know"

"Not really" said Draco. "I was always going to go into business—the family business of controlling everything through money and scheming and politics, and all of that. But now my future lays open before me like a huge blank slate." He sighed wistfully, staring at the ceiling like he was watching his life spread itself before him across the white surface.

"What do you _want_ to do" asked Ginny idly, poking at a small silver city.

"I don't know" he said. "I never thought about that." Ginny rolled her eyes at him, so he said"No really. I'm not being melodramatic or anything boring like that. It was just… never… oh, what's the right word"

"Important" she ventured.

"Mmm… 'Encouraged' is more like it."

"You happiness was never encouraged"

"No. No, of course that was. But thinking about what really made me happy was not. It was all superficial things. It was all just things." He rolled over on his stomach to stare at the redhead in his room. "Okay" he said. "So I know this is going to sound incredibly insulting, especially coming from me…"

"Oh Merlin" said Ginny dramatically, turning from her explorations to look the blond in the face. "What? Go ahead. Say it. What"

Draco grinned. "I just… you don't really have money…"

"Mm-hmm" said Ginny with exaggerated wariness.

"So how can you be happy"

Ginny laughed. Honest-to-goodness laughter, and it rather caught Draco off guard.

"I mean it" he exclaimed.

"I know" she cried, steadying herself against his bookshelf. She slid into the chair by his desk and let her laughter subside. "You really did grow up thinking that poor people are _necessarily_ unhappy, didn't you"

Draco glared at her. "It's a legitimate point" he argued.

"No, it isn't" she said, still chuckling. "It's just a stereotype rich people have."

"It's not true at all" he asked, clearly not believing her.

"Well" she said diplomatically, her voice still light but now under her control"It can get kind of tense when the bills need to get paid, but people really don't place a grand amount of importance on things they'll never have."

Draco made a face.

Ginny continued. "I mean… hm… Okay. I'd love to have a Firebolt 260, right? It's the hottest model out there, and it's supposed to cut through the air like lightening."

Draco whistled. "Exactly what I mean. You could never afford that! I mean" he stuttered quickly"Not that I could it either, not anymore."

"Exactly what _I_ mean" said Ginny. "Looking through the Quidditch magazines, eyeing up that Firebolt 260, I know I could never afford it. So I think, 'Wow, I'd love to have that', but then I shrug and turn the page. It's as much a fantasy as me being elected Minister of Magic this fall. I could beat myself up with longing for either one, but it wouldn't be very productive, now would it"

Draco rolled back onto his back and again stared up at the ceiling. "So you don't _really_ want the Firebolt 260, then"

"I'd be happy to have it. But I'm not about to stake my happiness on getting it when I know I won't, barring some sort of miracle."

Draco thought about this for a while. Ginny went through his desk drawers, checking out his designer quills and expensive parchment.

"So what _does_ make you happy" he asked.

Ginny considered. "My family. My friends. The things I can do. Jokes, pranks, Crup puppies, I don't know. A lot of things."

Draco was quiet. Then"Not to be sappy or anything, but Harry makes me happy. He pays attention to me, you know? Like he's actually interested in what I have to say. And he was willing to go sneaking around after me at school, keeping our relationship a secret when it was dangerous not too, like he didn't just want to be with me for the status of it."

Ginny grinned. "Awwww…"

Draco reached over and grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. Ginny caught it deftly and shoved it into the chair behind her back.

"Harry makes me happy too" she said. "Usually, at least. I'm really bloody pissed off at him right now."

Draco smirked.

"I know he's only been gone since last night" she continued. "But it feels so strange to not be able to feel him. It's almost like it was before we bonded, except for the glaring awareness that he's supposed to be there."

"He'll be back" said Draco. They kept reminding each other of that. But there was less comfort in the words than there was in the act of saying it to someone.

XIXIX

Remus and Hermione apparated into the garden in her backyard. There was an area with high hedges that could not easily be seen by the neighbors, and Mr. and Ms. Granger had agreed that it was a good place for Hermione and other witches and wizards to use for apparation purposes to their house.

Mr. Granger was grilling about ten feet away when he heard a loud pop that startled him. "Hermione" he called. "Is that you"

"Yes, it's me" called Hermione in return as she stepped around the hedges. "Dad, I'd like you to meet someone" she said as she kissed her father hello.

" 'Mione, is that you" Ms. Granger slid open the glass door between the kitchen and the patio and stepped outside just as Remus came into view.

"Mum, Dad" said Hermione"This is Remus Lupin. He was a professor at Hogwarts."

Mr. Granger set his grilling utensils aside and wiped his hands on his apron, stepping forward. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lupin" he said, shaking hands. "Cecil Granger. This is my wife, Edith."

Remus nodded his head in greeting. "How do you do. And please" he said"Call me Remus."

"We weren't expecting company" said Edith sweetly. "But there is more than enough if you would care to join us for dinner."

"Oh no" said Remus. "I wouldn't want to impose." He noticed that Hermione's shoulders had tensed slightly at the offer.

"No imposition at all" said Cecil. "None at all. Edith, grab another steak, will you"

Edith nodded and went inside, returning momentarily with a prime cut of meat. Hermione smiled around at the three adults, predicting even without the use of her Sight what was going to happen tonight. She served drinks and set the table while Remus chatted with her parents about dentistry.

They dined out on the patio, and the conversation was pleasant enough. Hermione allowed herself to pretend to relax, but she knew her parents well. They had clever minds that remembered everything, and a fondness for harmless teasing. It didn't bode well.

About halfway through dinner, Edith asked as if it had only just occurred to her"So what were the two of you up to today? I daresay school business."

"No" Remus replied casually. "I'm no longer a professor at Hogwarts. I asked Hermione to help me find Harry. It seems he has decided to do some, ah, adventuring."

Hermione tried not to wince. Compared to the whole truth, that explanation was rather tame. But her parents would pick up on his ironic use of the word 'adventuring' and wonder what was actually going on.

Sure enough, eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, that's right" said Cecil. "You are Harry's guardian, are you not"

"Not exactly" said Remus. "Harry is an adult in the wizarding world now, after all. But we do share a house, and I do try to look after him."

"And he's gone 'adventuring'" asked Edith.

"He's had a hard year" sighed Remus. "I suppose it _was_ only a matter of time before he went off by himself to figure out a few things."

"Yes, these kids today" agreed Cecil.

"What happened to Harry this year" asked Edith innocently.

Remus was unguarded. He looked to Hermione, only just realizing that her parents did not know about quite a lot if they were unaware of anything bad having happened to Harry this year. He was not expecting this, and didn't know what to say.

"His family died" said Hermione quietly, as though she hadn't wanted to bring it up. Remus would have applauded her acting if he hadn't been so busy wondering what else the Grangers didn't know. Did they know their daughter was a Seer? Did they know _anything_ about the war? Did they know they had been watched and protected by Order members for nearly a year?

"What? When"

"In May" said Hermione. "There was a terrible fire at their house and his aunt and uncle and cousin all died."

"Oh, that poor dear" said Edith.

"He wasn't very close with them though, was he" asked Cecil gravely.

"No" Hermione admitted. "I think that's part of why it's so hard."

"I had no idea" said Edith, shaking her head.

'No idea, indeed,' thought Remus.

"No wonder he looked so sad when we saw him at the train station" continued Edith sympathetically. She gave Remus an understanding smile. "Please give him our regards when he returns."

Remus nodded his thanks for their concern.

After a very heavy silence, Cecil turned the conversation to lighter topics. "What do you do currently, Remus? You said you're no longer at Hogwarts."

"Yes, that's right" Remus agreed. He was guessing that his recent work with the Order was not to be discussed, so he said"I'm what you might call a free agent at the moment. I do defense work, against the Dark arts, mostly. But work in that field is not exactly steady. It comes in waves."

Cecil nodded. "I suppose you prefer working in the field to teaching, though."

Remus considered. "Well, I do quite enjoy teaching, as a matter of fact" he said. "And I _have_ been offered another teaching job recently…"

"You have" asked Hermione, completely surprised.

Remus smiled. "I wasn't going to say anything until I had decided, and I wanted to discuss it with Harry first, but yes. Durmstang has offered me the professorship in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

He had expected Hermione to be happy for him, but she only stared at the news. Her expressive eyes seemed to be battling out whether she was relieved or saddened by the idea. Finally, she simply asked"Are you going to take it"

Remus sipped his drink. "I haven't decided" he said honestly. "It would be nice to settle down with a steady job, but I would also like to stay close to Harry for the time being."

Edith nodded in understanding. "Durmstang is quite far, isn't it"

"Yes, on the continent… somewhere around Germany, I suspect."

Cecil laughed. "You don't know where it is" The idea of considering a job at an unknown place was absurd to him.

"Durmstang is unplottable, Dad" Hermione reminded him. "It can't be put on a map, so it's not _exactly_ anywhere."

Cecil and Edith both laughed at the thought. Remus smiled with them.

"Unplottable…" said Cecil. "Is that the same as that hidden street—Diagon Alley"

"Not really" said Hermione. "It's the same principle for hiding the location, but Diagon Alley is just hidden from non-magic folk, whereas Durmstang is hidden from magic folk as well."

Edith shook her head, still chuckling. "What will they think of next"

Cecil had a glint in his eye now that they were all laughing together. He cut Hermione a sideways look and then said casually"So, Remus, that _is_ an unusual name. Is it a family name"

"Actually, no" said Remus. "I'm the only one in my family, back at least ten generations."

"Where have I heard that name before" Cecil wondered, tapping his chin, and his wife caught the glint in his eye.

"Oh yes" said Edith"I remember. It's in that mythological tale about the two boys who were raised by _wolves_." Remus stiffened slightly, but Hermione's parents missed it. They both looked to Hermione, who slumped a bit in her seat. She knew this would happen.

"Dad, Mum" she said, a slight whine to her voice. "Please don't."

Both of her parents laughed good-naturedly. Edith leaned toward Remus to let him in on the joke, winking at Hermione, who looked extremely embarrassed at this point. Unfortunately, the Grangers misunderstood why.

"It's a funny story, actually" said Edith.

"Mum" began Hermione, but she was waved off.

"In her third year at Hogwarts, Hermione wrote home about her new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor" she said, still amused by this funny story from Hermione's childhood. "She wrote, 'Nobody knows it because he just pretends to be sick every month, but Professor Lupin is a werewolf'"

The Grangers both laughed out loud, fully expecting Remus to join them. Remus looked between them, utterly perplexed and unsure of how to react. He turned to Hermione, who was miserable at the turn of events. She met his gaze with apologetic eyes and Remus began to understand.

"They don't believe in werewolves" she murmured by way of explanation, but her parents heard her. Their laughter died off uncertainly as they took in Remus and Hermione's discomfort. Comprehension dawned.

And suddenly, the story was a lot less funny.

Edith dropped her fork and her face paled considerably. She averted her eyes from their dinner guest. Cecil kept clearing his throat as though something spiky were lodged there. He was looking between his daughter and Remus, his cheeks coloring, with anger or fear was not immediately apparent.

Remus folded his napkin and said politely"I'm afraid I have to leave. But thank you for your hospitality."

He stood and the screech of his chair seemed to echo in the sudden silence. He turned and stepped away from the patio and into the garden. Hermione jumped up.

"Remus" she called. "I should have warned—"

Her dad grabbed her by the arm and held her back to protect her from the monster that was disapparating from behind his hedges. Hermione jerked her arm free and ran forward a few more steps until she heard the familiar popping sound.

"I'm sorry."

XIXIX

Ginny was sleeping lightly, barely more than dozing. It was closing in on dawn. She could tell by the dull glow against the curtains. She was in Draco's bedroom, laying on a small portable bed that Draco had had the house elves bring in.

Her chest hurt, near her left shoulder. Her whole body was stiff and sore. She was exhausted, but sleep had alluded her most of the night. She never could sleep right when she couldn't feel Harry.

But now she could. A familiar presence touching her soul. He was sleeping in his own bed at 12 Grimmauld Place. He had come home, and gone to bed, and had not re-opened his link to her until he fell asleep. He hadn't come to see her.

That knowledge stabbed at her, straight into her heart, but she shoved the pain away. If things were changing between them, she needed to change as well. She couldn't keep chasing after him, demanding he explain himself every time he did something that upset her. He knew her well enough by this point to know if something was going to upset her. If he chose to do it anyway, well…

Ginny slid out of her bed and padded over to Draco, who was sprawled out, tangled in his sheets after restless sleep. She touched his arm and he shot awake.

"What's wrong" he said.

"Harry's back."

Draco looked around in the darkness. His mind was muddled from sleep and he thought she meant Harry was in the room.

"Where"

"He's asleep in his bed at Grimmauld Place" she said quietly.

Draco kicked the covers away and sat upright. "Well, come on" he said.

Ginny shook her head, standing up straight. "I'm going home" she said.

Draco looked at her. He leaned over to the nightstand and turned on the light. Then he looked at her again. "He's back. We should go to him."

Ginny shook her head again. "I can't" she said. "I'm going to go home. I'll talk to him tomorrow if he comes by. But you should go to him."

She turned to leave, but Draco stood up after her. "Ginny" he said.

She paused, her back still toward him, and Draco found he didn't know what else to say. Harry had really only been gone for just over a day, but during that time Draco and Ginny had finally made their peace, completely. They had finally become friends. It didn't seem right that she leave, because Draco knew that it signified a distance between the twins that shouldn't be there. It surprised him how bothered he was at the thought of Harry and Ginny being less close than they had been.

It surprised him how much he wanted Ginny to go to Harry.

But he didn't know how to express this, because he also understood it from Ginny's point of view, so he let her go home. He went to Grimmauld Place alone, and he smelled alcohol as he passed Remus' room. He climbed the stairs quietly in the house that subtly gave him the creeps because it somehow reminded him of Malfoy Manor in a way he couldn't quite discern. And he pressed Harry's door open slowly, and he slipped into Harry's room, and he slid into Harry's bed, smiling to himself that Harry had fallen asleep in his clothes, still wearing his glasses.

"Where have you been" he murmured as Harry began to stir.

"In bed" said Harry sleepily, wrapping his arms around Draco. "Because it's night."

"Where were you during the day" asked Draco, nuzzling into his boyfriend.

"Nowhere" said Harry.

"I don't believe you" whispered Draco, planting kisses on Harry's neck.

Harry moaned and opened his eyes, running his hand down Draco's side. "You never believe me" he said, tilting his head so that Draco had better access to his neck. Draco took advantage of the movement, sliding his tongue underneath Harry's jaw before kissing him right below Harry's ear.

Harry pulled him so their bodies were flush against each other. Draco was still in his bedclothes—soft, thin, light fabric that caressed his skin as Harry's fingers glided across him. Harry kicked off his shoes. They fell to the floor with tiny thuds.

"We were worried" Draco moaned into his ear. Their bodies were moving together, thrusting against each other in determined motions. His words were slurred with his growing arousal, but Draco kept on. "Remus was looking for you. Ginny was in a state when you closed your bond. Why did you close her out"

Harry's eyes flashed in the darkness. He rolled over on top of Draco and ground into him. "Stop talking so much" he hissed. He pressed himself down into the blond, found his mouth with his own, and took control of it. Draco moaned into him. He slid his hands down to Harry's waist and up underneath his shirt.

Harry pulled back so Draco could pull it off. "I need you" he insisted, pulling at Draco's bedclothes. Draco scrambled at his belt, undoing Harry's pants. They were caught up in each other, unwilling to let their lips part long enough to make an orderly job of undressing. Finally, a nearly naked Draco rolled on top of Harry and pulled away to pull off Harry's pants.

"What—" he began, looking down at Harry's chest, which was marred with a large bruise on the left side.

But Harry pulled him back down, and when Draco looked again, there was nothing to be seen. It must have been a shadow.

Their flesh was hot against each other. Harry's skin was smooth to the touch, but he was more aggressive than normal by far. But Draco couldn't complain as Harry worked their bodies into new positions, pulling his hair, biting him sensually. Draco dug his nails into Harry's back and cried out his name as Harry pounded into him, owning him completely.

And then they slept.

XIXIX

When Draco awoke, Harry was sitting up, looking troubled. Draco slid his arm around Harry's waist, pulling him close.

"What's wrong, love"

Harry looked down at him. "Ginny's blocking her link to me" he said. "She never does that."

"Can you really blame her" Draco admonished softly. "She's angry you disappeared, but even more angry that you blocked her out completely. Why couldn't you have just left the link open a little"

Harry pulled away, stood up, crossed the room. He was moving stiffly, as though his whole body hurt. He stood next to the door for a moment before he opened it.

"It's none of your business" he said firmly.

He left, closing the door behind him. Draco lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Ah, hell no" he said aloud. He rolled to his feet and pulled on his pajamas. He slammed open Harry's bedroom door and stalked downstairs lividly.

Harry was alone in the kitchen. "What the hell is your problem" Draco demanded.

Harry turned to him. "What the hell is _my_ problem"

"Yeah! And where were you yesterday"

Harry glared at him. "Nowhere" he spat.

"Oh, don't give me that 'nowhere' shit! Ginny was half out of her head in worry! How could you just leave like that"

"It's none of your business" Harry repeated slowly, seething.

Draco kicked at one of the chairs. It jumped but it didn't fall over. "Fuck, it's not my business, Harry. You want to be with me, you owe it to me not to disappear like that! Tell me where you were."

"No. Where."

The lights started to flick and it occurred to Draco that Harry was at least as angry as he was, and a whole lot more powerful. He stood glaring, breathing hard, trying to regain himself so that he could communicate without yelling. A minute passed without them saying anything, and slowly the lights calmed down.

Harry curled his fingers into fists and his knuckles cracked. "I'm going to go shower" he said. He walked past Draco and left the room.

Draco stood alone in the kitchen for some time, trying to decide what to do. He didn't move until he heard a rushing sound from the living room. He went to check if Ginny had decided to come by after all. But it wasn't Ginny. It was Severus.

He was carrying a flask that Draco knew would contain the Wolfsbane Potion. Severus was surveying him critically. Draco knew he must look like hell. He was royally pissed off and still unsure what to do about it.

"Harry's back" he said. Severus nodded. "He's taking a shower."

"Did he say where he was" asked Severus.

Draco's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. But then he answered"Nowhere. It's none of my business."

Severus exhaled, anger showing clearly. He looked around the room, and then set the flask of brew on the end table next to the couch. He and Draco flooed back to Snape Manor.

XIXIX

Harry apologized to Draco for yelling and nearly losing control like that. He apologized to Ginny and to Remus for making them worry. He spoke to Severus in private. No one ever found out exactly what was said, but neither of them spoke to the other for the remainder of the summer.

But Harry never said where he had gone for the 30 hours he was missing, and he never apologized for leaving. When asked, sometimes he would fight, sometimes he would just walk away. Draco stopped bringing it up. He was tired of fighting about it since the fights never went anywhere.

In the three weeks before term started, Harry disappeared twice more—once for 17 hours, and once for 43. The second time he disappeared, Ginny took to pretending he didn't exist while he was gone. She wouldn't mention his name or respond to questions or statements about him. She pretended as though nothing were out of the ordinary. During the third time he disappeared, Remus accepted the job at Durmstang. He told Harry when he got back, admitting that he didn't think Harry needed him anymore. Harry asked him to stay, but Remus said that Harry would be fine without him.

Draco was there, and he watched, during the summer that Harry changed, and the family he had created for himself began to break apart. And damned if he knew why.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Please review. Thank you to everyone who has already. I deem you worthy of...

DEATH BY CHOCOLATE!

(Enjoy it and get back to me. Let me live vicariously through you. Savor the flavor...mmmm)

Gryffindorgrl86: Yeah, I'd love to see your pics. My email address is in my profile.

Raclswt: Hermione and Remus? Um... we'll see. :P


	6. Back to School

X

XIX

XIXIX "Back to School" XIXIX

A kindly looking older woman blinked up at Severus from the front page of the Daily Prophet. She had a loose gray-haired bun, sparkling wise eyes, and a gentle smile associated with trust-worthy grandmothers the world over. Her name was Willa Raspberry, and she was the new special correspondent of the "War on Death Eaters".

The Ministry had declared this "War on Death Eaters" after the Final Battle as a means of quashing the Dark Lord's legacy before it could breed a whole new generation of terror. The entire situation left a bad taste in Severus' mouth. He had watched silently as a younger man while the Ministry of Magic bungled their way through the first trials, letting the guilty go free if they were famous or well-connected. He had watched innocents be intimidated by impotent-feeling Aurors, strong-arming their way through an era over which they had no control. And all along, the news spouted the unadulterated success of arrests and trials that were _token_ at best.

The declaration of this "War on Death Eaters" did nothing to assuage his fears that the Ministry would tangle itself into the same mistakes, or worse, this time around.

Severus sneered down at Willa Raspberry and sipped his tea, but she did not quail under his glare as other photos might. Indeed, she merely smiled all the more, and then winked knowingly. Unimpressed, Severus turned to her article.

_The smell of Fall is in the air, and our young wizards and witches return to their school studies, secure in the knowledge that the close of Summer marks the close of the reign of terror incited by You-Know-Who and his followers. With the help of the child-savior of the wizarding world __Harry__Potter__ (see related article, "__Hero__ Heads to Hogwarts: Homestretch to NEWTs," by __Rita__Skeeter__, page 12), the Ministry of Magic has broken up Death Eater operating cells with the mighty arm of justice on their side._

_Minister of Magic __Cornelius__ Fudge, despite his rigorous campaign schedule, has stepped up the offensive against the remaining Death Eater stragglers still at large throughout the wizarding world. Throughout the Spring and Summer, the Minister has personally ordered a dozen trials against suspected Death Eaters, and has consented to a dozen dozen more. _

_"The Ministry will not falter again as it did in the past, under my predecessors," announced Fudge at a press conference yesterday afternoon. "This is a new era in the Ministry of Magic. An era of prosperity and peace. Death Eaters beware: We will find you. We will catch you. And you will be brought to justice!"_

_The Minister's words were met with uproarious applause, as the citizens of the wizarding world heard his call for the end of fear. With Aurors, prosecutors, and the Minister himself working around the clock against the few remaining Dark wizards and witches who prowl the streets at night, searching for victims and opportunities for acts of senseless crime, we citizens can rest easy knowing that the Ministry will protect us. _

_The Ministry has been a shining beacon, alone in the night of You-Know-Who's Dark reign. The Ministry alone has kept us safe from the dangerous repercussions of the Dark Lord's downfall as hundreds or even thousands of Death Eaters seek vengeance for the destruction of their master. The Ministry alone has handled the little Death Eater problem with superb calculation. The War on Death Eaters is a complete success._

Severus tore the paper in half and threw it away from him. An instant later, he hissed, "_Incendio_" and the falling leaves burst into a bright flame, startling the breakfasting students in the Great Hall. Severus paid them no mind.

"My word, Severus!" exclaimed Minerva McGonagall.

Severus stood abruptly, but turned to bow to her in an almost polite gesture. He said simply, "It is happening again," before storming out of the Great Hall, muttering angrily under his breath such things as, "Bumbling inept Ministry," and "Propagated sphinx shit."

To say the least, it was a startling thing to witness on the first morning back at Hogwarts. Terrified students checked their newly arriving class schedules, desperately praying to any god that might listen that they not have Potions class Monday mornings. It would perhaps be considered lucky, then, that that honor fell to the seventh year NEWT level class, as they had the most experience behind them for dealing with Snape's moods.

Of course, no one in the seventh year NEWT level class felt that way.

XIXIX

Severus began the class as though no time at all had passed since their last lesson. There was no introduction. There was no welcome back. There was no reference at all to there having been a summer break. Severus stormed to the front of the room, the force of his bad mood radiating from him in waves. His lecture was short, angry, and to the point. He waved his wand and a list of ingredients and brewing instructions appeared on the board. He then sat at his desk and proceeded to ignore them, glaring at the parchment before him as he furiously scribbled notes from a large tome.

One half of the seventh year students bravely walked past his desk to retrieve the necessary ingredients—most of them, to their credit, little showing their trepidation.

Harry was not among them. He sent his lab partner instead.

"Whatever happened to Gryffindor bravery?" whispered Draco, eyeing the storeroom warily. Severus was not actually blocking the way. He was not even exactly _next_ to the way. He was simply in the general proximity, which, at the moment, seemed a rather intimidating distance even to Draco.

"Gryffindors only risk death if there's a chance we'll become a martyr," Harry whispered in return. "Suicide doesn't count, so I'm afraid I can't get involved here."

Draco raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "But if he _does_ try to kill me on the way to the storeroom?"

Harry nodded once. "I'll jump in front of any curse he throws at you." He grinned. "_That_ would be a worthy enough cause."

Draco nodded back. "Deal. Get the cauldron ready." He slipped away, moving casually except for a slight hesitation to his step.

'Careful, Draco,' thought Harry ruefully. 'He can smell fear.'

"Honestly, Harry."

Harry didn't even have to turn to see the look on Hermione's face. He knew it well, and he knew she was probably right. He was being immature and passive aggressive about the whole affair, but he fully intended to avoid Severus for as long as possible nonetheless.

Draco slipped into the storeroom and Harry turned to his friend to whisper, "See, 'Mione? He made it just fine."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean," she murmured, also unwilling to draw the professor's attention to herself. "You're going to have to smooth things over eventually."

"Says who?" he muttered.

"Says the fact that you're bonded," she retorted. "This can't last."

"You sound like Draco."

"Then Draco's right. You have to talk to him, Harry."

Ron returned to his table with Hermione and began to set out their ingredients. "Talk to who?" he whispered.

Harry turned his eyes to the front of the room, where Severus seemed to be trying to shoot laser beams out of his eyes to set fire to the tome he was reading. Ron shuddered, looking from the Potions Master, to Hermione, to Harry.

"Well," he said after much hesitation, during which time Draco returned and all four began chopping, dicing, and grinding various ingredients, "You probably _ought_ to talk to him… but maybe now is not the best time, for your own sake."

As though to punctuate Ron's point, the tip of Severus' quill snapped and flew six feet at an odd angle to hit a Ravenclaw in the front row just below her right eye. She slapped her hand to her face and let out a soft, startled cry of pain. But when she looked up to see the professor's eyes boring into her own, she immediately insisted that she was fine and turned back to her cauldron as though nothing had happened. Her partner, a Hufflepuff, kept sneaking furtive glances at her eye, but made no protest.

The class paused, but pretended it had not as it followed the Ravenclaw's example. Severus retrieved another quill, and Harry noticed that he pointed his wand at it and muttered before resuming his writing, presumably to place an unbreakable charm on it.

"He should have sent her to the infirmary," Ron muttered angrily, quietly.

Harry turned his head. "He just hurt a student," he hissed, "Unintentionally. He's embarrassed but she seems okay. Watch him when he makes the rounds. He'll examine her eye himself and send her on if she ought to go."

And so he did. When coming to her table, he checked her cauldron, and her notes, and then her eye. When assured that it was, as she said, fine, he moved on to her partner's notes, and then on to the next table.

He said nothing to Harry when he inspected their brew, and they did not meet each other's eyes.

And so their silence would have continued, except that as they exited the Potions laboratory and made their way through the dungeon corridors, Hermione mused in an off-handed way, "I wonder why he's so upset."

"Something he read in the paper, obviously," drawled Draco idly.

"Yes, but I wonder what specifically," answered Hermione. "It has to be pretty bad. I mean, Oleander could have lost her eye in there."

Ron looked down at her, figuring out her game. "Is this a ploy to get Harry to go talk to him, since he's the only one who knows him well? Because I really doubt that going back is the safest thing for Harry at the moment."

"But what about Snape?"

Hermione chanced a glance in Harry's direction. He kept his face impassive, hoping she wouldn't go the guilt route.

"He's sitting in there alone, stewing in his anger…"

She went the guilt route.

"Fine, I'm going!" Harry didn't even pause his step; he just turned around and continued walking in the direction from which they had just come.

Draco stopped, and so did Ron and Hermione, with Hermione smiling in a self-satisfied sort of way. Draco chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment before heading on to his next class. Ron nudged Hermione's arm.

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, Harry needs to talk to his bondmate, and someone needs to calm Snape down before he has the first year Hufflepuffs this afternoon."

Ron gaped at her. "What, did you memorize _everyone's_ class schedule!"

Hermione shrugged again and grinned. "I'm Head Girl. I need to do that sort of thing."

Ron shook his head and slung his arm around her shoulder. "I doubt that Draco did," he muttered, as they turned to walk to Care of Magical Creatures.

XIXIX

Harry hesitated outside the Potions classroom, wondering if he should warn Severus of his presence, or just go barging in.

'I'm coming in,' he thought as he entered—a fair compromise.

"What can I do for you Mr. Potter?" asked Severus. He was organizing the samples from the class for later testing. He did not look up from his task.

"Well, first," said Harry, setting his bag down, "You can call me Harry." He took a breath, organizing his thoughts and wondering if they were coming more from the Harry-side of his brain, or the Severus-side. But that line of thought made him feel splintered, so he discontinued it, instead focusing on getting the words out without incurring the wrath of the angry man before him.

"I said some things I shouldn't have, and I've waited far too long to apologize already." That was a good start, but he wasn't sure where to go from there, and Severus wasn't giving him much of a reaction to work with.

The Potions Master completed his task and stood, facing Harry with his arms crossed and his face blank. Harry crossed his arms as well and the two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then Harry looked away.

"I can do this as long as you can," he said calmly. "I have you inside of me—all of your stubborn will and your controlled exterior. If I behave like Severus, we'll continue on this path for some time, neither giving in, and neither speaking to the other. But then," he rubbed his hand through his hair awkwardly, "If I behave like Harry, I'll wind up saying something stupid and you'll likely never forgive me for it. So you can see I'm a little unsure how to approach you right now. Help would be appreciated."

Severus exhaled deeply and looked away. Harry felt a great sadness and sympathy pulse through his bondmate. The reference to his fractured selfhood hit Severus hard, harder in fact than Harry supposed it would. He wanted to go to comfort him, but he stayed where he was, waiting.

Severus smiled bitterly and said softly, "I would not wish _me_ on anyone."

Harry smirked. "Oh come now," he said, "Surely you can find a better reason to pity me than that."

But Severus did not laugh, or even suppress a laugh. He walked slowly to the desk Harry stood nearest and leaned against it, his arms crossed once again. "Harry," he said, looking him in the eye, "You've not been yourself for some time."

"You're right," said Harry, since he _was_ no longer himself.

Severus exhaled again, frustrated and guilty.

'It's not your fault,' thought Harry, because he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.

But Severus ignored him. "I think you ought to try the pensieve," he said.

Harry turned away abruptly, closing himself off completely. "I can't," he said sharply. He grabbed his bag and pulled the strap over one shoulder. Severus grabbed his arm.

"I think you ought to try," he repeated. "I think it might—"

"I came here to apologize," Harry interrupted.

"I don't want apologies," snapped Severus. "I want honesty."

"It's none of your business," said Harry automatically. "Let me go. I'm late for class."

Severus let go of Harry's arm and Harry moved to the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob, his back to Severus. He couldn't leave it like this, could he? It was bad enough with things so tense between them, but the added knowledge that Severus was dreadfully upset about other things as well left Harry feeling cold. He took a breath.

"I read the Prophet this morning," he said. "The Ministry is bunking it all up again. I—I'm sorry about that, but that's not your fault either, and there is nothing you can do about it."

Harry looked over his shoulder. Severus had turned away. Harry closed his eyes and left.

XIXIX

Draco's gaze was heated across the Great Hall at dinner that night, and Harry found himself blushing under it. He and Ginny sat together at the Gryffindor table. Neville came in and sat across from them, blocking Harry's view of his boyfriend's smoldering eyes. He shifted to regain the eye contact. Ginny cut him a mothering look.

"You're not leaving until you eat something, so don't even think about it."

Harry laughed, realizing suddenly how much Ginny resembled Molly. He told her so and she swatted him hard in the shoulder.

"Ow," he whined, kneading the injured area, "That'll mark, you know."

"Pfft. I hardly touched you." Ginny flashed him an innocent grin and Neville laughed. "Now eat up, or the next one won't be so friendly."

"Merlin, you're dangerous," muttered Harry, reaching for a roll. "No one else would dare treat me like that."

"Well," said Ginny lightly as Ron slid into the seat next to Neville, followed closely by Hermione, "You're lucky to have me then."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Neville cut him off. "Ah-ah, Harry. Best quit while you're behind." He reached forward to serve Harry a huge chunk of roasted venison. "Because she _is_ dangerous, and she _does_ resemble her mother."

Ginny smiled sweetly and said, "Thank you, Neville. Words of wisdom if I ever heard any." She held out her plate and Neville served her some venison as well.

Ron snorted, but Harry gaped. "Hey! Why aren't you going to hit him for saying the exact same things I did!"

"Because he meant it as a compliment. And anyway… Ron, are you okay?"

Harry looked across the table to see that Ron was, indeed looking rather green. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away, toward Hermione. She was looking at him with great concern at the sudden change.

"Ron?" she asked, putting a hand to his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"I can't eat that," he rasped. It seemed to be costing him a great deal to speak.

Harry looked to Ron's plate, expecting some grotesquery, but saw only the same roasted venison that Neville had helpfully served to him as well.

"You don't like deer?" asked Neville, confused and concerned.

"It's d…" Ron swallowed his words and tried again. "I can't eat it. It's dead flesh. I just can't."

Everyone stared at him for several seconds. Then, Hermione said kindly, "Here. I'll take it." She reached over and switched their plates, gazing steadily at Ron to see if he was okay with this arrangement.

Ron peaked his eye open to look at his plate, and, upon finding it empty, breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned over and pecked Hermione on the cheek, murmuring his thanks.

"Sorry, Ron," said Neville. "I didn't mean…"

"No, it's okay," said Ron with forced cheerfulness. "I know it's weird, but it just makes me sick when it's on my plate, since… well, you know."

Everyone nodded glumly with their memories, and slowly turned back to their food, and even more slowly back to their conversations. They talked about their general dismay surrounding the heavy amount of schoolwork that everyone was facing this year. They talked about how interesting it was having certain classes with all four houses present. But no one mentioned _why_ their classes had changed. No one mentioned how small the classes would be otherwise.

All talk of the war seemed to be taboo among the students. At the end of last school year, everyone was still in shock, in celebration, and in mourning. But now, the students felt they were in this strange new stage where they had to pretend that everything was okay again, that everything was back to normal. Harry supposed that this couldn't last very long, because life would most definitely not go back to the way it was before the Final Battle. The changes would have to be accepted at some point.

As Ron and Hermione argued about which monsters Hagrid was likely to bring to them this year, Harry wondered what the catalyst might be for that acceptance to happen.

But he lost track of the conversation when he turned back to his boyfriend, who was making a very great, albeit subtle, show of licking something off of his fingers. Harry squirmed in his seat, looking down at his half-finished meal and finding that eating was just not real high on his list of priorities at the moment.

Ginny sighed heavily. "_Please_ don't make me tell you to finish your vegetables," she whined. "I don't think I could bear another insinuation that I've already turned into my mother. I'm only sixteen for Merlin's sake."

Harry laughed and wolfed down his greens, keeping his eyes determinedly off of Draco so that he wouldn't become distracted again before Ginny set him free from dinner. But he noticed out of the corner of his eye, over Ron's shoulder, that a figure with platinum blonde hair was heading to the door to the Great Hall. He looked up at Ginny pleadingly with his very best puppy dog eyes and showed her his plate.

"Fine, go," she huffed, and Harry kissed her on the cheek.

"You're a doll," he said, and was gone.

Outside the Great Hall, Harry looked around, suddenly aware that he had no idea where Draco's room was now that the Slytherin had been made Head Boy. Draco was nowhere in sight, so Harry made a decision and started walking toward the dungeons.

He realized with a pleasant light-heartedness that he had let his awareness level drop to nearly normal levels since he had returned to Hogwarts the night before. It was the first time in months that he had been around so many people without constantly scanning the area to know how many people were in his proximity, what magic was near, what magic was being cast… He realized as he raised his awareness levels once again that he felt truly comfortable at Hogwarts.

Then he realized that Draco was only a few halls away, and he picked up his step as he headed in that direction. Harry felt Draco's presence as he rounded the corner one floor down from the main level. He looked to where he knew he'd find his boyfriend before it occurred to him that his boyfriend was completely covered by shadows and very likely had been trying to hide from him. He looked away, but Draco cursed.

"I don't know why I bother trying to sneak up on you. It never works." Draco stepped forward quickly, and grabbed up fistfuls of Harry's robes, pulling him close. Harry melted into him, pressing his lips to Draco's, tasting him.

Draco murmured something into his mouth, but it was lost into the kiss. He tried again, pulling back, and speaking as his lips made their way into Harry's neck.

"Tantalus."

"Hm?" Harry's question turned into a moan when Draco grazed his teeth across Harry's jugular, but the question was answered when a large portrait door swung open behind them. Draco wrapped one hand firmly into the collar of Harry's robes and pulled him inside.

As the portrait door swung shut behind them, Draco got to work undressing his boyfriend. "I go on duty tonight an hour before curfew and Hermione made me swear I'd have you in the library for study time before that, which means I've got to get you naked in the next thirty seconds or I won't have time to properly enjoy myself."

Harry tried to tug at Draco's robes, but Draco slapped his hands away. "You first," he breathed, giving in and leaning forward to suck on Harry's nipples as soon as his chest was exposed. "I've got," he said, kissing his way down, "To see you," he fumbled with the fastenings to Harry's trousers, "Naked, now, or," Harry kicked off his shoes while Draco tugged his pants down, "I'm going to die."

Harry stumbled backwards as his left foot was pulled free of its sock—the final article of clothing. He was grinning like a fool at Draco's eagerness, but the smile dropped off his own face when he saw the look on his boyfriend's.

Draco looked absolutely ravenous.

He eyed Harry for only a moment before darting forward and overtaking the Gryffindor, forcing him backward onto the bed. They tumbled in a heap of limbs and Draco's clothes, which he was now desperately trying to shrug off. Harry kept trying to help, and Draco kept pinning his arms down, resulting in heated kisses, but slow progress in terms of disrobing.

"I've become spoiled," hissed Draco as he kicked off his pants and placed one knee firmly between Harry's legs. "All summer I got to shag you whenever the hell I wanted, and this whole 'waiting for classes to be over' thing _sucks_."

Harry grinned into their kiss and felt Draco's right hand slipping down his side. He reached up and grabbed hold of that silky blonde hair, but Draco grabbed his arm and pinned it back down over his head. He flashed Harry a devilish smile and maneuvered so that he was holding both of Harry's wrists down in his left hand, and his right hand began it's journey back down.

"You're _mine_, Potter," he insisted, and Harry could find no reason to argue with that. Especially after Draco found his wand and pointed it at him, muttering words that Harry couldn't quite make out, what with the jolt excruciating pleasure that coursed through him just then. And then Draco was inside him and Harry was sure he must be screaming. He had a vague notion at some point that he hoped a silencing charm was in place in the room.

XIXIX

"So, why do you think they replaced the Threstles this year? Are they really scary-looking, or something?"

Ron was whispering to Harry, ignoring the glares that Hermione kept shooting him for daring to have an outside conversation during study time, regardless of the fact that it was only the first day back to school.

"Not really," said Harry. "It's just that people find them so unlucky. And so long as they're invisible, people can ignore them, but…"

"Pretty much the whole school would be able to see them this year," agreed Ron. "Do you think it would have caused a panic, or something?"

Harry shrugged, remembering the first few times he saw the winged creatures. "Probably," he said. "I mean, they do have a peculiar beauty about them, but it takes some getting used to."

They turned back to their homework for a few minutes. Then, Ron said suddenly, "I'm going to ask Hagrid if he'll let me help out with the herd sometime."

"What!" shot Hermione, temporarily forgetting to mind her voice level, which earned a nasty shushing sound from Madam Pince. Hermione blushed and looked dutifully ashamed before turning back to Ron. "Are you crazy?" she hissed.

Ron was reddening a bit himself. "No," he hissed back. "I'm just curious to see them, is all. And I was disappointed that they charmed the carriages not to need them this year."

"Why do you want to see them so badly?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

Ron's eyes darkened. "No reason," he said, not quite casually. "It's just kind of interesting. I mean, people can only see them if they've seen a dead person. I've been wondering why. I thought maybe I'd understand if I saw them."

Hermione narrowed her eyes critically. "Ron," she began, but he cut her off.

"Hermione, don't. Not now. I've every right to be curious, and every right," he lowered his voice suddenly, realizing it had been growing louder. "Every right to be thinking about death, for that matter!"

He turned angrily back to his homework. Hermione clenched her jaw shut, and Harry was sure that she was blinking back tears. He gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back weakly and then focused on her book, but Harry noticed that she wasn't taking notes, which meant she probably wasn't actually reading.

He looked up and around, realizing that Draco hadn't yet come back. He had excused himself for a minute some time earlier. Harry was wondering what was holding him up when he saw the Slytherin emerge from a secluded aisle with a couple of younger students. Fourth year Slytherins. Harry knew them from the DA last year.

Draco glanced over in his direction and smiled. He said something and the three of them quickly tucked something into their pockets. They spoke for a moment more, and then Draco came back to the table and slid into his waiting seat next to Harry.

"What was that all about?" asked Harry.

"Nothing," said Draco, dipping his quill in his ink and turning to his own homework.

Harry just looked at him and waited.

Draco wrote for ten seconds, ignoring Harry's expectant gaze, before continuing, "Just business. Don't worry." He gave Harry his most winning grin, and Harry debated letting it lie, just for the effort of the smile. But before he had fully made up his mind, Draco looked up and exclaimed, "Vincent!" He jumped out of his seat and was enveloped in a bear hug by Vince Crabbe.

Draco slapped his back, gasping for air. "Let me go, you! It's hardly proper behavior for Slytherins, is it?"

Crabbe laughed out loud and swung him around once before setting Draco back down.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said. "It's just so good to be out, finally."

Crabbe turned and Luna Lovegood seemed to materialize under his arm from nowhere, although Harry realized she must have been standing right behind Crabbe the whole time. He also realized that Madam Pince must have a heart beyond her books after all, since she had busied herself at the far corner of the library, and was letting the newly freed prisoner from Azkaban have his reunion uninterrupted by pleas for quiet.

"You missed a day of school, though, Vincent," said Draco, rubbing his chin uncertainly. "All of your classes. As Head Boy, I feel I'm under some obligation to administer punishment."

Crabbe's face fell. "But Snape said… Oh wait. You're having me on, aren't you?" He laughed again. Harry and Ron shared a look and snickered as well. Luna smiled dreamily at the proceedings.

"Anyway, Granger." Crabbe drew himself up to his full height and pulled Luna even closer to his side. "Luna told me what you did."

Hermione paled considerably. Her eyes fell on Luna, and she began to sputter. Draco raised an eyebrow at that.

"That day I was being arrested for um… well," he looked down and shuffled his feet, "For trying to turn Potter over to the Dark Lord and all."

"Wh—? Oh! Right." Hermione seemed to regain herself suddenly, but was still cutting more looks in Luna's direction than Draco could possibly ignore. She seemed to him suddenly like a drowning woman trying to decide if she even wanted to be saved.

"Anyway," Crabbe continued. "I don't know why you did it, but you saved my life that day, and I really owe you for that. So, like, um," he paused and took a deep breath. "I swear I won't call you a mudblood ever again."

Hermione's jaw dropped and now Ron began sputtering. Neither had heard that word used in a few months, not even from other Slytherins. Draco struggled furiously to keep from laughing, and wound up coughing instead. Harry nudged him sharply in the side.

"Well," said Hermione, her voice strangely high, "Thank you. I think."

Crabbe beamed. "And if there's anything else I can ever do for you, just let me know. And I mean, like, I _want_ to do it, too. So I'm not offering just because I _have_ to, because of the life debt, or anything."

Hermione managed an uncertain smile, which Luna returned. They held each other's eye.

"I have to go get settled in now," said Crabbe. "I'm a sixth year again since I missed the end of last year, so I have to get used to all new roommates. It's gonna be strange, that's for sure."

They said their goodbyes, and Luna and Crabbe left the library. Harry buried his head in his arms on the table. Ron's face was red and he looked like he was only just holding it together. Draco himself was chewing his cheeks to keep from smiling.

Hermione was glaring murderously at all of them. Ron opened his mouth.

"_Don't. You. Dare_." she fumed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and the three boys exploded in laughter.

Madam Pince was over in a second, shushing them and threatening that she would kick them out if they refused to respect the library rules for quiet. They covered their mouths and buried their heads until the table passed for quiet and controlled. Hermione crossed her arms and her legs and was tapping her foot furiously, looking like she was about to erupt. But as the silent laughter wore on, very slowly, she smiled.

XIXIX

When he returned to Gryffindor Tower that evening, Harry found his twin sitting at the centermost table of the common room with Neville. Before them were mountains of newspapers in a dozen different languages and hundreds of crumpled up pieces of parchment. Both looked tired, but Ginny was laughing as he entered, which caused Harry to become aware suddenly that she had kept their bond closed since dinner. He hadn't thought much about it, but some part of him had just automatically assumed that if he couldn't feel anything strong from her, then she wasn't feeling anything strong.

But she was laughing. She had to be happy. Why would she block that from him?

"What's all this?" he asked as he made his way over.

Ginny and Neville both looked up with pride sparkling in their eyes. Then they turned to each other grinning goofily.

Ginny affected an officiously pompous voice. "Neville, my good man, would you like to do the honors?" She motioned toward Harry for Neville to explain.

"No, no, my lady. I really must insist that the honor be yours." Neville bowed his head in a jovial mime of civility.

Harry sat down across from them. He pushed his disappointment about Ginny blocking their link to the back of his mind. Their good mood was catching, and he wanted to be a part of whatever it was that was making his twin so giddy.

Ginny cleared her throat and unrolled a single scroll. It was the only one on the table that had not been thoroughly scribbled, torn, or crumpled. She held it up as though it were a prized possession to be revered by all. She looked to Harry significantly.

"This, Harry, is the finally finalized proposal for the Student Wizard Activist Network, or SWAN."

"We had a helluva time agreeing on the name," added Neville. He looked particularly triumphant though, which made Harry suspect he had come up with the agreed upon title.

"Great," said Harry. "What's it for?"

Ginny took care of this answer. She leaned forward and said seriously, "The wizarding world had a great deal of damage done to it this past year. A lot of people died, and a lot of the survivors lost nearly everything they had. Stores were blown up, homes destroyed. And on top of that, they have to deal with other losses that can never be replaced. We all lost friends and family, and that's left a lot of people feeling helpless."

"Yeah," said Neville. "I mean, just look around the school. People try to pretend everything's back to normal, but… so many of our classmates are gone forever. We can't just pretend that nothing happened. We have to start putting the pieces back together, for the whole wizarding world even."

"Which is where SWAN comes in," Ginny announced. "The goal is for people to start putting the pieces back together psychologically by mobilizing people to work together to put the pieces back materially."

Harry cocked his head, looking at his twin. "Like, support groups or something?"

"No—like a relief service. But a relief service offered by students. Look." She grabbed a few of the newspapers and slapped them down in front of Harry. "Dumbledore gave us these. I don't know how he has time to read this many papers every day, but, well, he _is_ Dumbledore. Anyway, the papers are still telling stories of what was lost during the war, of hard times that have fallen on certain towns and countries, and individual stories of extreme tragedies."

"So what SWAN does, is we ask students to get involved. We look at the things that _we_ have, or that we can afford to get, and figure out what it is we can donate to the greater cause of rebuilding the wizarding world. There's this story," Neville dove into the pile until he found the paper he was looking for. It was from Bosnia.

"This family had to flee a band of Death Eaters in the middle of the night, months and months ago with literally only the clothes they were wearing. When they went back to their house the next day, everything—literally _everything_—they had was destroyed. They've just recently moved into a small apartment but they're all sleeping on the floor because they can't afford furniture yet. But I just got a new bed over the summer. There was nothing wrong with my old one—Gran just decided she didn't like it anymore. It's up in my attic not being used while these people in Bosnia have nothing."

"So why don't we send it to them?" asked Ginny. "Neville's uncle has a shipping service, and he's famous for taking on extra cargo for charitable work."

Ginny and Neville grinned at each other again, but Harry had to wonder. "Aren't there other relief services already out there?"

"Oh yes!" said Ginny immediately. "There's the Red Star, for instance, and Ministry Relief Agency… but well, let's face it. Even if we can get students from other schools to work with us—"

"And we will," added Neville.

"We're still just a bunch of students sending out whatever stuff we have that's still good enough to give away. But, think about how that's going to affect the students. When they're actually _doing something_ to help the other witches and wizards get back on their feet, I can _guarantee you_ that those zombie-like faces and 'nothing's wrong' attitudes will disappear."

"We'll be doing something to fix the world, rather than just pretending that everything's fine now that the war is over." Neville leaned forward and dropped his voice. "Tell me you haven't noticed how lost the other students are, and then tell me that we don't need to do something about that."

Ginny nodded her emphatic agreement and Harry had to smile. "This is…" he said, "Simply amazing." He thought back to his musings at dinner about what would be the catalyst for change at the school. He should have known it would be Ginny. "It's gonna be a lot of work," he added, "But if anyone can pull this off, it's you two. When do you start?"

"Tomorrow," Ginny answered. "We're mailing out copies of the proposal to a few people whose help we'll need, and to the other wizarding schools to see if they're interested in forming a sort of network. Then after we've got everything set up, we'll announce it to the student body, run an ad in the Prophet, and see what happens."

They talked through the details until Harry went up to bed. He was impressed with the project, and impressed with their determination to see it through. But then, Ginny and Neville were two of the most selfless people he had ever known. He supposed it was in their nature to figure out a way to help everyone.

But Ginny never reopened her link to him, through all of their discussion about SWAN. Harry never mentioned it, but he knew it was significant. He wondered if he should be worried. He wondered if he should be hurt. But more than anything, he wondered what was going on with his twin, and when he had stopped knowing.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Whew! There we go, moving right along. I'm going to be gone this weekend, losing valuable writing time, so the next chapter will be preceded by a couple of weeks' waiting. Sorry :(

A Need to Slashify: I don't think he's trying to break the bonds, but he's been so secretive lately, I can't get any answers out of him.

Lily Michelle: Hermione/Remus vibes? Really? That's um… fun.

CannonFodder: "Can't even rely on Harry have good judgment with this, because he has a history of phenomenally bad judgment on matter when it comes to himself..." That is an excellent line. May I use it?

Ariverrunsthroughphoenix: Hmm… I'm suspicious of the same thing, in all honesty.

Thank you to all of my reviewers! Love you muchly!


	7. Behind Closed Doors

X

XIX

XIXIX "Behind Closed Doors" XIXIX

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year and the group was going to head down together after breakfast. Harry was still getting ready and said he'd meet them downstairs in just a minute, so Neville and Ron closed the dorm room door on their still-dressing dorm mate and made their way to the Great Hall where they slid into seats next to Ginny and Hermione.

The food was good, the mood was light, and the atmosphere fun, for all of ten minutes, during which time Harry did not appear. Ginny was laughing at something Neville had said, but then her laughter died abruptly and she clenched her fists. She drained her glass of pumpkin juice with her eyes closed, and then turned back to Neville with a friendly smile and a relaxed demeanor. Neville didn't quite get the bizarre shift in her mood, but she seemed happy again and he was willing to let it go.

Seven minutes later, Draco slid into the seat on Ginny's left and asked her, "So where's your better half? Didn't oversleep, did he?"

Ginny didn't respond for a moment, but then turned to the blond and simply said, "Good morning, Draco. Sleep well?"

Draco cut her a look. He knew what that meant.

Ginny was avoiding mention of Harry, which she only did when he disappeared. He sighed deeply, put his head in his hand, his elbow propped up on the table, and let the disappointment wash through him. He thought all of this would be over after they got back to school. He thought that Harry would… get over… whatever it was that kept driving him away from his friends and family.

"But we had plans," he said quietly. "He made plans with five other people. He can't have just _left_."

Ginny didn't say anything, but Draco hadn't expected her to. It was her self-defense mechanism against the emptiness and uncertainty that Harry left behind when he disappeared.

He took a deep breath and tried his best at a smile, but it came out more like his old arrogant smirk. That was his self-defense mechanism.

"Well," he drawled loud enough for the others to hear, "Plans change."

Ron, Hermione, and Neville looked over.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" asked Ron, in a tone imitating snide. Everyone would slip into their old roles from time to time.

"It seems, Weasel," Draco began, but Ginny punched him in the arm.

"Play nice, Malfoy," she admonished. "You're on Gryffindor turf now." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and Draco was glad to have a history they could joke about for times like this.

He bowed his head. "Please excuse me, my lady Weasel, Queen of Hogwarts…"

Ginny snorted and turned back to her breakfast.

"As I was saying, Weeeeasley, it seems that Potter has gone MIA, so I suggest we head on to Hogsmeade without him. That is, if my lady, the Queen, would do me the honor of replacing my date."

"Why, my lord Snakiness," grinned Ginny with a flirtatious falsetto, "I would be honored."

On her other side, Neville made a face, but Ginny missed it.

Ron's cheeks were reddening. "But we just saw him a minute ago!" he protested. "He was fine—getting ready like every day." He paused and turned to Neville to back him up, almost pleading, "He said he'd be right down!"

"I can't believe he'd take off like that," agreed Hermione. Her sensible voice carried a bit of a bite. "We've been planning this for weeks."

"He can't keep doing this," snapped Ron. "Harry's my friend and all, but he's acting like a right bastard." He turned to Ginny and demanded, "Are you okay?"

Ginny shrugged. "You know what sounds good?" she inquired. "A butterbeer. I say we stop at the Three Broomsticks before going to Dervish and Banges."

Draco slapped his hand on the table, jumping on her change of subject. "You heard the lady. Let's go."

He made to stand up, and the others followed. Ron was still grumbling about how he wasn't going to stand for Harry acting like this, and Hermione was only half-heartedly trying to soothe him, as she was fairly angry herself. But before they had even turned away from the table properly, Hermione ran straight into a very large Slytherin sixth year.

"Oh, excuse me," she said, regaining her balance.

"No, no. It's my fault," said Crabbe. "I was just… Hey, where's Potter?"

His question set off another round of scowls and averted eyes. "He's busy today," said Draco, not quite casually. "What's up, Vincent?" Draco looked between Vincent and his girlfriend, the ever-spacey Luna, whose eyes were fixed on Hermione.

Draco couldn't help himself. He looked over his shoulder at Hermione as well. She was holding Ron's arm possessively, but looking away from everyone. Just as he expected.

Crabbe, it seemed, was oblivious. "Well, Luna's dad reckons there might be a roving band of Daylight Vampire Fairies in the area, and we figured it might be safer traveling in a group, and the Ravenclaws don't quite trust me, and um… neither do the Slytherins for that matter…" His whole demeanor changed then, so that he seemed to suddenly be begging. "But you guys were _there_ and you know where my allegiance was in the end…"

Ron snorted and muttered, "Yeah, with Luna."

Neville looked around at everyone, and seeing no direct disinclinations, nodded cheerfully. "Sure, Crabbe, Luna, you guys can come with us. The more the merrier, eh?"

He chuckled and Crabbe cocked his head to one side, confused by the Gryffindor's friendliness. Draco had to agree. He couldn't fathom what went on in that head to make Neville Longbottom so willing to forgive six years of schoolyard torture without so much as an apology. He must really have great trust that his friends knew what they were doing to have so readily accepted Draco and Crabbe into their group. Draco wondered if that trust was a result of things that had occurred among the Gryffindors, or just a result of Neville's personality. Maybe both.

Regardless, the group set off to Hogsmeade together. Neville was in the lead, making forcedly friendly conversation with Luna and Crabbe. Hermione and Ron walked behind them, with Ron trying not to scowl at Crabbe, and failing, and Hermione trying not to look miserable as she watched the couple in front of her, and failing.

Ginny and Draco brought up the rear, talking about everything under the sun except the one person about whom they were both thinking.

XIXIX

The group was actually 'together' at Hogsmeade only in the vaguest of senses.

Almost as soon as they got there, Ginny and Neville were swamped by a number of SWAN enthusiasts who insisted on buying Ginny the butterbeer that Neville mentioned she wanted. Ginny had a number of things to do and people to meet while in Hogsmeade, but agreed that she could hang out for awhile in the Three Broomsticks, especially since she had wanted to talk to Madam Rosmerta about being a contact in Hogsmeade for the non-student witches and wizards who wanted to donate items or funds to help SWAN help those in need.

The crowd separated Draco from Ginny, who called out that she would meet up with them later. Hermione and Ron agreed, calling out as they disappeared toward Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop that they would meet up with everyone later as well. Crabbe and Luna had at some point already slipped away to unknown parts, although Draco highly suspected that Crabbe had taken Luna immediately to Honeydukes—it was always his first stop, ever since third year.

And so, with Harry's absence, Draco found himself standing alone in the middle of Hogsmeade. It was not exactly how he had envisioned spending the day. A small sulking voice inside of him told him that he may as well head back to his quarters and spend the day catching up on homework. But a much louder and more cunning Slytherin voice inside of him told him that he may as well take care of some business while he had some time to himself.

Draco smirked and set out to find the Tricksters.

Lokstavian Azghard (Loky for short) and Kyle O'Tea (sometimes known as Coyote) were infamous in Slytherin for their brilliant pranks. They were fifth years, which meant that they had had three and a half years of tutelage under the Weasley twins before they had escaped from the school. But the Tricksters were Slytherin through and through. They were equally talented and equally clever as the Gryffindor pranksters, but exponentially more cunning and ambitious. They pulled off pranks the likes of which the twins could only dream—and they got away with it.

Always.

Outside of Slytherin, no one even knew the Tricksters existed. The Weasley twins themselves never even realized they had trained their successors, even though they had been blamed for a fair share of the Tricksters' pranks. Since the twins left, the Tricksters' pursuits were most often chalked up to Peeves, or else unsolvable mysteries of the castle.

They were sly. They were stealth. They were infinitely trustworthy when it came to secrets dealing with pranks.

And they were in business with Draco.

Early in the summer, the Weasley twins had approached Draco, the soon-to-be Head Boy of Hogwarts, about selling contraband goods from their stores to students. He was perfect for the job because, as a Slytherin and a Malfoy, he had a good nose for business and knew more about each of the students than anyone would care to admit. And plus, as Head Boy, he would be able to keep his eye on where Head Girl Hermione was keeping her eyes, and be able to divert her attention if necessary. The way the twins saw it, Hermione was the biggest risk in this enterprise. Dumbledore and the teachers they could deal with, but Hermione had damn near shut them down on more than one occasion.

Draco had accepted their challenge of selling contraband items from their new line, because they had been right on all accounts—especially the first. Draco _did_ have a good nose for business, and had made all the proper contacts on the first day of school to ensure that the goods got sold, he made a profit, and that nothing was traceable back to him.

That was where the Tricksters came in. They could hide anything. They knew everyone who was interested in any item of the sort. And no one would ever suspect them. People had long since developed a habit of _not_ suspecting them for anything. Draco became the middle man, getting the items in. The Tricksters got the items around.

He found the two Slytherins in question in Zonko's Joke Shop checking out X-Ray Spex™. They looked casual, like any other teens that had picked up a random product, but Draco knew better. They were plotting something.

"Hey Lokstavian… Kyle." Draco strolled up next to them and began looking through the bin marked _Guaranteed to See Thru Wood, Iron, Stone, or Fabric. _Loky and Coyote acknowledged him with nods, seeming neither interested nor disinterested in his presence. Draco held a pair of X-Ray Spex™ to his eyes and looked around.

Typical.

The spectacles saw through everything, all right. But the image was far to muddled to be of any real use. Cheap kids' toy.

"Garbage," Draco muttered. "I got something far better for you."

"Oh?" said Coyote, still looking through the display case. "Got word about P-cubed, have you?"

P-cubed was their codename Prank Products for Pranksters™ by the Weasley Wizard Wheezes. It was the new line that the Tricksters were selling inside the school on Draco's behalf.

"Hmm," said Draco in a non-committal way. He peered through the spectacles at a passing Ravenclaw fifth year, eyeing her up and down and deciding that his imagination showed him more than the glasses did. He could see through her clothes, but also her skin and bones, the display case behind her, and the far wall. But he didn't let on about his disappointment to her. She glared at him and hurried away. Draco smirked but did not lower the glasses, maintaining the ruse that he had just run into some friends while shopping.

"You know what would be neat?" he asked in a bored drawl.

"I've got a few ideas," said Loky, turning around to poke a very realistic looking _Baby Basilisk—Make Them Scream! _It caused momentary blindness to startled victims. Loky was careful not to look it in the eye. He hardly seemed to be paying attention to what the blond was saying.

"Invisibracelets," said Draco. "You know, a thin band you could wear as a bracelet that would cause you, your clothing, and anything you're carrying to become completely invisible to the world around you."

Coyote shrugged. "Sounds impossible at worst. Expensive at best."

Draco understood his concerns. When the Weasleys had first told him they'd created the Invisibracelets, he been sure they'd either be crap, or expensive. But they'd proven to be neither. The Tricksters would definitely be able to sell them.

He held up his hand in front of his face and found that if he focused really hard he could see the bones in his hand without also looking through Coyote's skull.

"It would be cost effective considering the trouble it could cause," he drawled casually.

"What's the catch, then?" asked Loky, watching the fake snake as it crept around his wrist.

"A simple charm would nullify its effects… if anyone inclined to ward against such objects ever found out they had made it into the school."

Coyote's eyes flashed. "It would have to be kept an absolute secret among any and all users, then, huh?" Draco knew that the challenge intrigued him. How to sell enough to make a profit, but also ensure that no purchaser ever spread word of the bracelet? That would be the thought running through his head.

"Kyle," said Loky, "I've been meaning to ask you to tutor me in Potions. I'm having trouble keeping the ingredients straight in the Sleep Draught variations."

Draco smiled at the change of subject. They were going to plan a meeting to talk business that Draco could drop in on. Somewhere out of the way, and with a cover story that would stand up to scrutiny.

Coyote turned to his classmate. "Lokstavian," he said seriously. "I told you. Anytime. I still owe you one for helping me in Arithmancy."

Loky smiled. "How about we meet in the old Potions Laboratory, then? What time are you free tonight?"

Draco tossed the X-Ray Spex™ back into the bin. "Better not make it too late," he said. "Those draughts take awhile to brew. I've got rounds tonight, and if I catch you out after curfew, there's going to be hell to pay."

"Seven o'clock then," said Coyote. "I'll bring my notes."

Draco was already walking away.

XIXIX

He saw a streak of long, red hair in the midst of a mob heading to Dervish and Banges, but didn't even bother to waste his time trying to extract Ginny from her followers. She was making a big difference, in the school if not in the world—although Draco was inclined to believe that Ginny just might wind up solving all the world's problems in the long run. She was charismatic and inspired hope where there was none. And she didn't shy away from the limelight like Harry would. She really believed that things could be better than they were. And she made others believe.

But that meant that it was nearly impossible to spend time with her in an even remotely public place. Which was a shame. Draco had really gotten to like her over the past few months.

He wandered around for a few minutes, keeping an eye out for friends. It was strange for Draco, and not at all pleasant, to have to _look_ for people he thought of as friends. Most of his oldest friends, those he had known since birth, had been on the wrong side of the war when all was said and done. They were dead or in Azkaban now.

The school was smaller by about half after the war. Everyone was hit hard, but Draco couldn't help feeling he had been hit particularly hard. But of course, he reasoned, surely everyone else felt the same way.

He had felt so lost for so long, so lonely, and so completely unsure about his place in the world. He had never really had friends, real friends, outside of Slytherin. Now he felt so alienated from those who had fought with Dumbledore and Harry all along, even though he had been with them in the end, had been right by Harry's side as they walked into that trap to save Ginny…

He wondered how anyone could trust him, how anyone could look up to him. He wondered who he could lead. A year ago, he had fully expected to be made Head Boy in his last year at Hogwarts. But after everything that had happened, he wondered why Dumbledore had chosen him. He was no model. He was no figurehead. Who could look at Draco Malfoy and see anything worth wanting?

Except for Harry. Harry could look at him and make Draco feel human. Without Harry, where was Draco to go?

He caught up with Hermione and Ron heading toward Hogsmeade's Owl Post Office. Draco fell into step beside Hermione, but she didn't notice at first. She was busy needling Ron, who was looking around as though for an escape route.

"I'm just saying," she was saying, "Why can't you just use your school address? It's not that I'm against you having another, it's just that you're acting like it's some big secret…"

"You've got a secret, Weasley?" Draco cut in conversationally, startling Hermione. "Pray tell, what is it?"

Ron chewed on his lip for a second before saying, "Well, okay. The thing is… I really hated that slicked-back look you used to have, Malfoy. I should have told you sooner."

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly. Ron's serious face faltered and he grinned. He was clearly new to sarcasm. Draco, for his part, kept his face a mask of someone thinking over new and important information. Hermione rolled her eyes and tutted at the two of them.

"But you like the new look, right?" asked Draco, bringing his hands to his hair. "Because if you don't, I'll change it," he added quickly. "Anything for the brother of the Queen."

Hermione turned on him. "You're really pushing this new _Queen_ nickname for Ginny, aren't you?"

Draco shrugged and let his face relax into more natural expressions. "I think it suits her," he said neutrally.

Ron smirked. "He's right, you know. In fact, I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't go ahead and make her Head Girl this year."

Draco didn't laugh, but it was a near thing. It was very difficult not to react to the outraged expression that took over Hermione's face and body. She slapped Ron on the arm, completely scandalized. Ron held up his hands in surrender.

"No offense to you," he groveled. "It's just that…"

"Oh, just drop it, _Ronald_," she hissed.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "You're in trouble now, Weasley," he drawled. Ron rewarded him by glaring half-heartedly at the Slytherin over the head of his fuming girlfriend. "I propose," Draco continued, "That you make up for your slip by telling us your dirty little secret."

Hermione's eyes narrowed in determination at Draco's idea. Ron seemed to know that look and his shoulders slumped. "All right," he said, as though giving in after a long and tedious battle. "I didn't want to say anything because I don't know how this is going to work out, but I've been studying with Hagrid a lot about a lot of magical creatures. And I have some theories. And I wanted to test them out on some of the experts."

Hermione melted into the idea of academic achievement. She smiled brightly at her now reddening boyfriend. "But why can't you use your school address for that?" she asked.

Ron looked down. "I have. To Dr. Morton Monroe. His _assistant_," he spat the word, "Wrote me back saying he didn't have time to deal with children and their juvenile theories. I don't think he even read the letter himself."

Draco looked at Ron with a new level of respect. Monroe was a genius when it came to magical creatures. He was among the most noted experts of the field. Either Ron was getting into some pretty intense studies and developing some pretty intense theories, or else he was just getting in way over his head. Either way, to write Monroe showed an amazing amount of ambition—far more than Draco ever would have expected from the youngest Weasley male.

"I'm sure he's very busy," Hermione stuttered, apparently trying to be supportive, but in the completely wrong way.

"Or maybe he's just a self-involved prat," added Draco, and Ron smirked at him because he understood. "But you're getting an Owl Post Box to make sure which it is."

Ron nodded. "I won't write _him_ again, of course, but if I mail out my essays to others and they get shot down, at least I'll know it's because my ideas suck, and not because they scoffed at the Hogwarts address."

Hermione thought about this. "They won't make assumptions about your age based on where the letter is coming from if the letter is from a general O.P. Box." She nodded and strode down the road with a bit more purpose to her step, but then stopped suddenly. "But why didn't you want to tell me?" she asked.

Ron reddened even further and said in a small voice, "Because what if my ideas really _do_ suck? I didn't want anyone to know."

Hermione began reassuring him with sickeningly supportive platitudes, so Draco looked off down the road, lost in his own thoughts.

Ron didn't want anyone to know, which clearly indicated that despite his apparently high levels of ambition, he still was not Slytherin. Draco himself would have told everyone that he was writing the experts, and if the correspondence didn't work out, he'd just lie about the whole thing. He simply didn't understand this embarrassed modesty that so many people had about them.

Past the end of the road, Draco caught sight of the silhouette of the Shrieking Shack against the sky. He thought about his third year when he'd gone up there to insult the two people he was now standing with, and about his discovery of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Draco shook his head. Even back then, Harry had a habit of disappearing when he oughtn't do so. And of course, he always got away with it.

Draco felt a bit of fire in his gut, and truth be told, he _was_ rather angry with his boyfriend for leaving him alone today. But he didn't know what to do about it. Every time he brought up Harry's disappearing act, any semblance of empathy that Harry would normally have would just vanish, leaving nothing but rage. Draco didn't understand this behavior. And he didn't want to put up with it. But he also didn't want to fight about it any more.

He smirked to himself about the Invisibracelets. Harry knew nothing of Draco's deal with the twins, so he knew nothing of the contraband items that Draco had in his possession. He and Harry had an understanding that Harry would not use Legilimency on him without his permission. Draco knew that Harry would abide by that because he trusted him. It wasn't that Draco was keen on taking advantage of that trust, it was just…

Harry still had a few secrets. So did Draco.

"You look devious."

Hermione's voice cut into Draco's thoughts, carrying a tone that clearly stated she thought it was a bad thing for him to look devious. Draco smirked at her.

"I was just thinking of the last time we were all at the Shrieking Shack together," he said, affecting the face and voice of someone reminiscing over a fond memory.

Ron snorted. "That was so funny! You were screaming like a terrified child!"

Draco gasped, affronted. "That's because I _was_ a terrified child, thank you very much. For a minute, I thought you guys had done some sort of séance and resurrected the ghosts Madam Rosmerta told us had been quiet for well over a decade!"

Now Hermione looked amused. "Sorry. No sympathy here. I still remember what you said that day."

Draco narrowed his eyes and paused to think. After a moment, he said, "What?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You don't remember?"

"No."

"You _honestly_ don't remember?"

"Why would I lie about that?" he demanded. "I remember we went up to see the 'most haunted house in the world' or some such rubbish, and _you lot_ started mouthing off, and then we were attacked by nothing…"

"_We_ were mouthing off?" shot Hermione, interrupting him. "Draco Malfoy, what planet are you living on, anyway?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Ron cut him off, saying, "You know, that's not a bad idea…"

Hermione and Draco both turned to him. Ron was gazing off into space, apparently lost in his own world.

"Um… Ron?" began Hermione uncertainly.

Ron turned to her and smiled. "The Shrieking Shack is vacant, right?" he said.

"Well the ghosts are quiet at any rate," said Draco. "Word is there hasn't been a peep from the Shack since the 70's."

Hermione and Ron shared a look and Draco had the distinct impression he was missing something.

"Right," said Ron, his eyes twinkling. "Like I said. It's empty."

He was clearly having an idea. Draco didn't know if the feeling that settled in his gut was a remnant of their years of rivalry, but it seemed to him that this mystery idea was not a good thing. Hermione seemed to catch hold of whatever it was her boyfriend was hinting at, and seemed to agree with Draco's gut because she said in a warning tone, "Ron…"

"But it would be perfect," he said, uninterested in listening to arguments to the contrary.

Hermione bit her lip. She looked down the road to the shack on the hill and shook her head with a frustrated sigh. She took Ron's hand in hers, opening her mouth to argue, but then went absolutely rigid.

"Hermione!" Ron gasped. "Hermione, snap out of it. Come on, Hermione."

For several seconds she didn't respond to Ron as he worriedly repeated her name. Draco had only just begun to realize what was happening when she suddenly jerked her hand away from Ron and lost her balance, falling back into Draco's arms.

" 'Mione," said Ron, taking her arm and helping her stand. His voice was a nervous whine as he checked her over. "Are you okay? What happened? What did you See?"

"Vampire," she whispered faintly. Her face was a sickly white and she trembled all over as she looked up to Ron with huge, scared eyes. "You were with… it was going to eat me…" She pulled away from Ron and Draco both, standing determinedly, although unsteadily, on her own. "Merlin's beard, Ron! It was going to kill me!"

She took a step and sank to one knee. Draco and Ron were immediately at her side, each grabbing an arm to steady her.

"Come on," said Draco responsibly, "Let's get you back to Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded as she stood. She and Draco moved to head back, but Ron paused. He was looking at the post office; his face was absolutely blank. Hermione turned from him sharply, letting her hair fall over her face. But Draco saw the look of betrayal that flashed in her eyes.

"Go get your O.P. Box, Ron," she said meekly. "I'll be all right."

"No," said Ron, turning to walk with them. "It's fine. You need to get back." His voice was so dead, so void of inflection. Draco didn't know what to make of it.

"Go," repeated Hermione. "I'm okay. Meet up with me later." Her voice was apologetic, as though she felt guilty for having a vision and ruining his trip.

"You're sure?" he asked, and Draco could have slapped him. _'Don't leave her like this, you prat,'_ he thought. But Hermione nodded and Ron kissed her on the forehead and turned around and left, disappearing to take care of business that should not have been more important than his girlfriend.

Draco scowled, thinking about Harry.

"You don't have to come back with me," said Hermione in that same pathetically apologetic voice.

"Don't be silly," snapped Draco. "You bloody Gryffindor martyrs are always so busy thinking about yourselves that it never seems to occur to you that what _I want_ is more important." He shrugged and continued, his voice suddenly light, "I have to be with you in case you have a vision about _me_."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but was clearly thankful to have a sarcastically arrogant Malfoy at her side rather than no one at all. They walked at a casual pace, Hermione holding Draco's arm. And slowly, her color returned and her trembles ceased.

"I suggest you spend the rest of the day relaxing," said Draco, "So would you like to go to Gryffindor Tower, or the library?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm going to the North Tower," she said.

"Trelawney?" he scoffed.

"She told me to go to her the next time I had a true vision," said Hermione blandly.

"And you're really going?"

"Yes."

"Okay," said Draco slowly. Far be it from him to understand the inner-workings of the mind of a Seer, but he couldn't help going for the big one and asking, "Why?"

"She's not a phony," said Hermione sharply. "Not entirely, anyway."

Draco coughed.

"She has the gift of prophecy," said Hermione knowledgeably. "It's different than my gift. It doesn't hit her nearly as often, and she doesn't actually remember it afterwards. But her mother was a Seer like me, so she knows more about it than I do…"

"Have you talked to her mother?" asked Draco. "Seems she would know more about Sight than 'Trelawney The Not-Phony Prophetess'."

Hermione walked on a few steps before answering. "She's dead. She went mad while Sybil was still a child, and she killed herself."

"Oh, Merlin," breathed Draco. Hermione's face was set, but she was trembling a bit again. "I'm sure that won't happen to you, Granger," he said.

She nodded. "Of course." She didn't sound like she believed it. "Anyway, I just go in for private lessons, and only when I need them, or… Or whenever the lessons need to happen."

Draco decided not to comment on that tidbit of enigmatic wording. They walked on.

"Draco, will you do me a favor?" she said after awhile.

He made a non-committal noise.

"Will you distract me from this vision I just had? It's like looped video footage—"

"I have no idea what that means," he said.

"Right. Sorry. Muggle thing. I just keep seeing the vampire advancing over and over." She shuddered suddenly. "It's horrible. I was just wondering if you would—"

"Does Weasley know about you and Luna?" he asked.

Hermione froze, and judging by the look on her face, all thoughts of the vision were gone.

"How did…?"

Draco shrugged. They resumed walking, and Hermione was very visibly trying to come to terms with the question she had just been asked.

Finally, on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, she said, "No."

Draco nodded. He had a feeling that if he said nothing, the silence on the topic would grate on Hermione's nerves and he'd wind up hearing everything anyway. But then she asked, "_Should_ I tell him?"

That was significant. Draco knew it had been Hermione that told Harry what he had done while Harry was unconscious. Part of him had known that should Harry wake up, Hermione would be the one to tell him. Part of him had held Hermione's eye one day, just to let her know that he knew she would tell him, just to let her know that he was okay with that.

Draco took a deep breath. "No. Don't tell him."

"Because you want to tell him?" she asked dryly.

"No." He paused before explaining, "Harry deserved to know what I had been up to while he was out. Harry would understand, and he deserved to know. But I'm not so sure about Ron."

"Why?"

There was something in her tone that caught Draco. She wanted a justification for her secrecy, but that wasn't the only reason she was asking. She was curious, truly curious. She seemed to be looking to Draco to _teach_ her about the intricacies of infidelity and casual sex. Draco smiled ruefully. It _was_ quite a reputation he had built for himself.

"It was hard after the war… for everyone, I imagine," he said. "Harry _couldn't_ be there for me. He was too busy trying to stay alive. But Ron?" He took another deep breath, and looked over his shoulder, back toward Hogsmeade, where Ron was getting an O.P. Box rather than walking his girlfriend home after she had a frightful vision. "Weasley _chose_, and seems to still _be _choosing not to be here for you."

Hermione stiffened and stuck her chin up in the air, clearly not very fond of Draco's opinion on that one.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "If you told Ron, word would get back to Vincent, and no good would come from that."

Hermione considered that bit of advice, and seemed to accept it. "Are you still friends with him?" she asked.

Draco smiled. "We grew up together, you know," he said. "We've got a long history behind us. It was really hard being on opposite sides of the war after I changed over. And, Merlin! He was trying to kill Harry. Or send him to his death at any rate. I…" Draco swallowed hard. "We would've killed each other if we'd have had to."

"Jesus," said Hermione. "I can't imagine knowing that about one of my friends—that we would have killed each other if need be."

"Yeah." Draco kicked a rock in his path. They were back on Hogwarts grounds, heading toward the Entrance Hall of the castle. Draco thought of Luna Lovegood, and just couldn't believe it. "I don't know what he sees in her," he said. "But then again, I don't know what she sees in him either."

Hermione exhaled sharply, looking angry.

"Do you think they'll make it?" he asked.

"Oh," she said bitterly, "I'm sure they'll get married and have lots of babies and grow old together."

Draco regarded her smoothly, reaching out to the handle to let them inside. "Did you See something?"

Hermione scoffed. "Yeah. I saw Luna choose to open the door."

Draco dropped his hand. "What does that mean?"

Hermione made a face, wondering how much to say. Then she opened the door herself and entered, Draco right behind her. "It means," she said, looking over her shoulder, "That she chose to let someone else in. It means that she chose to be with Crabbe over me."

This was very personal. The _feeling_ in her voice nearly overwhelmed the Slytherin. They weren't close enough for any of this conversation to have happened, and he imagined it only did so that Hermione wouldn't have to think about a vampire attacking her. Still, he pressed on. "You would rather be with Luna?" he asked, but Hermione didn't answer. He angled the question. "Are you just settling for Weasley?"

That hit a nerve. Hermione stopped and turned on him. "I love Ron," she shot. Her eyes were fury. She needed to prove the intensity of her feelings, especially with the truth hanging between them.

But Draco was calm in the face of it. Ron had not walked her back to the castle. He had gone to the post office. "You can do better, you know."

Hermione smirked. "Ah Malfoy," she sighed. "That's a far cry from you calling me a mudblood."

Draco considered this. "Things change. And when_ I _did, you didn't hesitate to give me another chance."

A flush tinged Hermione's cheeks and she looked down, embarrassed. She didn't take compliments well. "It was the right thing to do," she said in a small voice.

"I wouldn't have done it," Draco replied simply.

There was nothing to say to that. There was nothing left to say at all. They walked on to the North Tower in silence. Draco stood underneath Trelawney's trapdoor while Hermione climbed the ladder and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her on whatever divinatory secrets the Seer and the Prophetess held.

Draco made his way back down to the dungeons to prepare for his 7:00 meeting in the old Potions classroom.

XIXIX

Hermione was in a terrible mood at dinner. It was true that her Sight offered her insights into the future, but some of it she would rather do without. It was hard enough Seeing jumbled blurbs of seemingly random events. Those confused her, and made her wonder what was important, if anything. But Seeing a life-threatening attack that was waiting for her at some unknown point in the future was far, far worse—especially since she had not Seen the outcome. And Trelawney couldn't help her with that.

Ron too entered the Great Hall sullen and angry. These moods descended on him fairly often, and Hermione was learning to keep her mouth shut whenever they did. Simple things, like her saying his name, would send him off on tirades about how she should just leave him alone already. Sometimes she thought that he had gone over the edge when he killed Percy, and that he would never fully come back. But that wasn't exactly something she could say, and certainly not when he was in one of these moods.

He slumped in his seat and pushed vegetables around his plate with his fork. He didn't ask how she was. He wasn't concerned for her at all. 'Maybe Malfoy was right,' she thought, but then she shook the idea from her head. Ron was just having a hard time, was all. They were meant for each other. They would make it through the year, and that would prove it. It didn't matter about… well, anything else. It was Hermione and Ron. It had always been Hermione and Ron. Victor had complained about that often enough while they had been together. Even Luna had talked about it over the summer…

Hermione stabbed a sausage with her fork and bit into with a vague feeling of passive-aggressive vengeance. She should have known that Luna was going to choose Crabbe over her. Looking back, Luna had as much as told her that she thought Hermione and Ron would end up together in the end. Why would she choose Hermione, if she was convinced that Hermione would choose Ron?

Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe she would prefer to be with Luna. Maybe she _was_ settling for Ron. Or maybe Trelawney was right and she should just give in to what her visions predicted before things went too far and she started messing up people's lives irreparably.

"Crazy old bat," muttered Hermione ruefully.

Ron shot her a look. "What?"

"Nothing."

He didn't pry. He must not really want to know. Hermione was seething. She was on a downward spiral and she knew it. She had to pull herself together. But before she could excuse herself quietly, Neville addressed a friendly question to the whole table.

"I wonder where Harry is, anyway." He looked around expectantly, like someone would know. He and Ginny had been talking quietly while silence had reigned over Hermione and Ron. Hermione looked up at him. Neville was too sweet to realize that sometimes people just wanted to be left alone, was too sweet to realize that certain topics should not be broached.

She waited for Ginny's evasive action, but the redhead surprised her by saying off-handedly, "He's upstairs sleeping."

"What!"

There. Ron's anger had surfaced, but not at Hermione for once.

"He's going to miss dinner," said Neville, getting up, leaving his own dinner behind. "I'll go wake him."

Ginny looked up at him like she was going to stop him, but then she closed her mouth again and set her features to stony neutral. Ron was looking at her. He was red in the face. His fists were clenched in his lap. Hermione felt grim. She would have to stay now. Whatever was going to happen would happen between the four of them. They were a team. They were in it all together. She couldn't just walk away when there was a struggle amongst them.

But Ginny did. The minutes ticked by and nobody said anything as they waited for Neville to return with Harry. Ron gave up the pretense of poking his food. Hermione didn't. She continued to feign interest in the remainder of uneaten dinner on her plate. Ginny ate as though nothing were the matter, as though Ron were not eyeing her as an excuse to pick a fight with his best friend.

The door opened and Harry strode in, with a confused-looking Neville following helplessly a few paces behind. Harry's eyes were agitated, darting around like he was angry and frustrated. His hair was sticking out in all directions. His robes were disheveled. There was a tear in the hem along the bottom. He sat heavily next to Ginny, muttering a disinterested hello as he began serving huge portions of food onto his plate. Neville sat hesitantly on Ginny's other side.

Ron opened his mouth, but Ginny beat him to the punch. "So, Harry," she said casually, but there was a bite in her voice that caused Harry to turn his head sharply to her. Hermione wondered if there was an underlying mental communication between the two of them that she was missing. "Where have you been all day?" Ginny's question would have been friendly if it hadn't sounded so accusing.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Nowhere."

Ginny's eyes narrowed in return. "I suppose it's none of my business," she said with poisonous sweetness.

"Got it in one," said Harry snidely.

"Said that to me, too," Neville added contritely. "I was just making conversation."

"Don't apologize to him for this, Neville," said Ginny, turning her back on her twin. "It's not your fault that Harry feels no sense of obligation to his friends." She spared a brief biting glare over her shoulder at Harry before addressing the rest of the table with a calm, but pointed, "I have to go. Lot of work to do."

And she left. She pushed herself up determinedly and strode from the Great Hall with the air of someone who was quite busy and didn't have time for nonsense.

Neville got up quickly. "Stuff with SWAN," he explained. "I'd better go help." And he hurried after her, waving to various students cheerfully as he too left the Hall.

Harry was serving up his dinner. His face was set in a frozen interpretation of Snape's impassive glare, but Hermione could easily tell how upset he was by Ginny's departure. His hands were shaking as he filled his plate.

Ron rounded on him, his face red and his eyes furious. "Harry, you gotta quit with all this 'none of your business' bullshit," he growled. Harry closed his eyes and Hermione felt fury radiating from him. He moved slowly, setting his plate purposefully on the table with a dull _thud_. Ron was unimpressed. He ignored Harry's subtle intimidation and continued, "You can be as much of a jerk as you want to anyone on this planet, but you leave my sister alone."

Harry turned to him. "She's my sister too."

"Then act like it," Ron spat. "Tell her where you've been."

"_It's none of her bloody business!_" Harry shot, raising his voice. He winced and his hand twitched, as though he were forcing himself to remain still.

Hermione tried a different tactic. "Harry, it's okay if you need to be alone," she said soothingly. "That's fine with all of us. But you can't keep disappearing like this."

"Don't tell me what to do, Hermione." His voice was low again, threatening.

"Don't use that tone with my girlfriend!" Ron was nearly yelling. The rest of the Hall was quieter now as people craned their necks to watch the scene.

Harry stood. "I don't need this right now," he said.

Ron grabbed his arm. "What's with you, Harry?" he demanded. "Why won't you tell us where you've been?"

Harry jerked away, and his hand went straight to his head. He was wincing again, but clearly trying to get his actions under control. Hermione knew that expression. He had a headache. He was trying to hide that he had a headache. He didn't want them to know. But why would he want to cover that? Why wouldn't he tell them?

"What's wrong?" she asked, narrowing her eyes in calculation.

"I said _leave me alone_," he spat.

"What are you hiding, Harry?" Her voice was matter-of-fact.

"Stop it, 'Mione," he said. Both hands were on his head now.

"Why won't you tell us?" Ron repeated.

"Stop it."

"Where have you been?"

"_Stop it._"

"Where have you been?"

"_STOP IT!_"

He was on his knees, holding his head between both hands as though to keep it from flying apart. A low moan was tearing through the now deathly silent Hall. Hermione was on him in an instant.

"Harry, what's wrong? What's happening!" She was frantic. She hadn't seen him like this since before Voldemort died.

The moan changed. "Stop it… stop it…"

There was a hand on her shoulder and Hermione felt as though an unearthly force lifted her away from her friend. Snape's one hand on her shoulder couldn't have moved her bodily like that, but apparently it had. Ron was standing. He grabbed her and pulled her close. His face had gone from beet red to a terrified pale as he watched Snape attend to his friend on the floor.

"Harry," he was saying, "Harry, it's okay. You're safe. It's okay."

But Harry kept moaning. Snape couldn't drag Harry's hands away from his head in order to inspect him. He looked up sharply at Hermione.

"He disappeared again today?" he snapped.

She nodded tentatively.

"He's not going to die," said Ron to no one.

"Of course not," said Snape disdainfully, producing a vial from inside his robes. He was smoothing the bit of Harry's hair he could reach through Harry's fingers. "Drink this," he said. "It will dull the pain."

Harry hardly moved, raising his head only slightly, but it was enough for his bondmate to get the vial to his lips. He sagged forward almost immediately. Snape waved his wand and a bundle of Harry was floating before him.

"I'm taking him to the infirmary," he said brusquely. "You may visit him in two hours." And then he strode from the Great Hall, Harry in tow.

"He's changed again," said a dreamy voice from beside Hermione. Ron didn't move to loosen his grip on his girlfriend, and Hermione didn't move to look at Luna. She vaguely murmured agreement.

"You probably shouldn't question him so much," Luna continued. "It seems to hurt."

Ron turned his head, the reddish tint returning to his cheeks. "Oh, what the bloody hell would you know about it?" he demanded wearily. "Come on, Hermione," he continued more softly. "We got that Transfiguration paper to work on."

He tugged on her shoulder. She nodded, and they left.

XIXIX

"There's nothing wrong with him," said Madam Pomfrey as she concluded her examination of the unconscious Harry Potter. "At least, nothing physical or magical that would cause a headache of such magnitude. He has a few bruises in the final stages of healing. He seems to have been casting healing charms on himself rather than coming in to see me." Judging by the expression on her face, she didn't think too highly of that choice. "But they were cast properly enough. He still doesn't eat enough." She cut Severus a look. "Perhaps the two of you could keep an eye on each other in that regard."

Severus nodded distractedly. He stood on the opposite side of Harry's bed than Madam Pomfrey. His left arm crossed his waist; his right fist was pressed against his mouth as he stared down at his bondmate, deep in thought.

"Perhaps," he said. She would know he was just placating her, but it was the better option than once again arguing the sufficiency of his eating habits.

She shook her head in exasperation. "Has he used his pensieve at all since the Final Battle?" she asked, changing the subject back to her patient.

Severus shook his head. "He refuses," he stated.

"Do you know why?"

"I have my suspicions."

"Could you convince him to try?"

Severus looked up, finally meeting her eye. "No. I will not."

"It might help."

"Harry is a grown man, and more than capable of making such choices for himself."

"You've argued about it already, then," she mused, turning back to Harry. "He has been as stubborn as a mule since this spring—around the time the two of you bonded, I suppose." She shook her head. "Never knew another person to so adamantly refuse help from others… and now there are two of you."

Severus gave her a look of tried patience. "Poppy, I promise that if I ever _do_ find that I am unable to care for myself, I will happily place myself in your able hands."

Madam Pomfrey raised her hand to her chest and gasped. "I think I'd die of shock if you came to me willingly, Severus," she quipped.

Severus smirked at her. "He should be waking up soon," he said instead of responding. "Would you mind if I had a word alone with him?"

She smiled. "Of course. And afterwards we can discus your dietary needs." With a playful wink, Madam Pomfrey bustled off to her office and closed the door, leaving the Potions Master alone with his bondmate.

Severus stood staring down at Harry for another minute before summoning a chair to sit on. He could feel Harry's mind edging toward the brink of consciousness, could feel his struggle to wake up. He had given him a powerful sedative, brewed for Hagrid to aid the groundskeeper in caring for one of the baby thestrals that had broken its wing. The sedative was actually for its mother, who would not let Hagrid near her foal unless heavily sedated. It was a short-term sedative, although quite strong, and perfectly safe for humans.

Harry stirred and Severus leaned forward in his seat, although he was already positioned quite close to the bed. His eyes opened, and then cleared. Severus handed him his glasses, and the piercing green leapt to focus. He glanced around the room before settling his gaze on Severus, laying upon him the full weight of the world. His bondmate accepted the burden without complaint.

"How is your head?"

Harry blinked. "The pain is gone."

Severus nodded. "Do you know what happened?"

Harry was silent and Severus realized the answer to that question was most probably far more complicated than a simple yes or no.

"How often do you get these headaches?" he asked.

Harry closed his eyes. "Sev, don't. Please."

"I'm not." It was a reassurance and not an argument. Severus waited for that to sink in sufficiently and for Harry to reopen his eyes and look at him again before continuing. "I can teach you a simple brew that may help the pain as it comes, without rendering you unconscious. And you may have full access to the school's store of ingredients in order to make it as often or as seldom as you like."

Harry nodded. Severus was offering him the free option to take care of himself, rather than insisting to care for him. "I know the brew," he said quietly.

Severus' eyes darted away for a moment. "Of course."

"Thank you."

Their eyes met again. Severus quirked his lips into what was almost a smile. "By any normal standard," he said, "You and I have both led extraordinary and difficult lives. I've had many years to adapt to my life. And while I know you remember having lived my life as well as yours, my life has really only been in your memory for a matter of months."

"It's a part of me now," said Harry to rebut arguments before they were made.

"Yes, I know. Your life. And my life. And one Dementor. And likely parts of Tom Riddle as well. Am I wrong?"

Harry was silent. He didn't talk about such things if he could help it.

"Your life as you remember it—the lives you remember—are more extraordinary and difficult than anything I could ever have imagined. It's a lot to sort through, Harry. And I honestly do not care any longer how you go about sorting through it all. I don't care where you go, and I don't care what you do. And I won't ask you again. And I won't try to make decisions for you about what I think you ought to do. I only need to know that you're okay, or that if you're not, that you are doing what you need to do in order to become so."

His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Because when you are not, I feel a cold panic in my stomach like all of my worst fears have been realized at once. And I remember that absolute hopelessness you felt as you stood against Voldemort and I thought I had lost you…" He broke off, but still they held each other's eyes.

Harry's eyes were reddening. He was silent for a moment before speaking. "You thought you were going to die when you possessed me during the battle, Severus. You thought that that was your last act as a living man."

Severus nodded once.

"I still remember that feeling, so perfect and clear and… and powerful. Your only desire at that moment was for me to live," Harry rasped. "Your only regret was that you would not live to see me through."

And now it was said. In those last desperate moments on the battlefield, Severus had bared everything. But even now there was so much left unspoken between them.

"Severus," he said, his voice breaking, "I never should have thrown your feelings for me into your face like that."

"Harry, no." The argument he had had with Harry over the summer and the subsequent distance in their relationship was the least of his concerns at the present moment.

But Harry shook his head and continued. "It was uncalled for. You had legitimate cause for concern. And I know, and I knew then, that you had not left your emotions unchecked. You were not overreacting in your concern for me. And I was wrong to insinuate…"

Severus cut him off. "You were wrong to accuse me of acting without thinking. But you were not wrong to imply that I was acting based on my feelings for you, Harry." He paused, looking away. "Bondmate or no, worrying for your safety has become habit. That worry was not developed without reason; you do have a knack of drawing trouble to you."

Harry had to smile. For a moment, he sounded just like the old Professor Snape he used to loathe.

"But I know that you do not _deserve_ for anyone to underestimate your abilities. You are more than able to care for yourself. And as your bondmate I know that, perhaps better than anyone. As your bondmate I trust you, and I will not question you. And I open my doors to you should you ever need to sit in silence. But I will not insist you take me up on this offer. And I will not be offended if you don't."

Severus paused before continuing. "I would still give everything to save you, and I would still regret never seeing you again."

"I don't mean to hurt you," said Harry.

"Then do what you have to do to be okay."

They were silent for a time, holding each other's eye, and expressing through their bond the wordless connection that tied them together. Harry felt completely relaxed, trusting in the understanding between them. He could still feel the sedative working its way through his system, but he was far more calmed by his bondmate's offer to stop questioning him, to stop demanding things of him that he could not give.

The door to the rest of the school opened and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville walked in uncertainly, approaching him tentatively as they eyed the silent Potions Master sitting at Harry's bedside. Severus stood and exited without a word, letting the door swing slowly shut behind him.

But before it closed, out slipped Draco Malfoy, who had followed his godfather into the infirmary from the Great Hall, concealed from sight by the Invisibracelet that clung to his arm. He had stayed out of sight in the hopes of finding out a bit more about what was going on with his boyfriend. And he had.

Draco walked away feeling as though he were going to hyperventilate.

XIXIX

_This special Sunday edition of The Daily Prophet's 'Eye On Hogwarts' has exciting news to report,_ writes correspondent Willa Raspberry._ It's a Hogsmeade weekend of fun and relaxation for the hard-working students, and everyone, third-years and older were out and about in the quaint wizarding town. There is no word on how Boy Hero Harry Potter spent his day, although word is he spent the evening in the school infirmary due to a headache. But never fret, he was back on his feet in no time, and spent the night snug in his bed in Gryffindor Tower._

_However, our favorite student was not the only one to suffer minor medical mishaps. Anonymous students have reported that the famous young Seer, Hermione Granger, has had another vision! As always since her Seer status became known after the Final Battle, Ms. Granger has remained close-lipped about what exactly she saw, but our sources maintain it must have been truly dreadful, for she was all but carried back to the castle by rival-turned-friend Draco Malfoy. _

_Some speculate that Ms. Granger's vision had to do with Harry Potter's magical twin, Ginny Weasley. Ms. Weasley has recently founded a well-meaning and good-intentioned student society called SWAN with fellow Gryffindor Ned Longbottom. Although experts do not expect SWAN to have a lasting impact on the school or the wizarding world, we must give credit to the idealism of young Ms. Weasley, and hope that Ms. Granger's vision was not, indeed, regarding the tragic end of Ms. Weasley _or_ her fanciful organization._

_Ministry sources, on condition of anonymity, have noted that SWAN is approaching dangerous territory with its altruistic purposes, by working with untrustworthy governments, and with people who have questionable allegiances (see related article, "Axis of Darkness: Minister of Magic Accuses Five Countries of Death Eater Ties"). _

_Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge paused his grueling campaign schedule to comment that the student organization certainly meant well, and would not be charged with aiding Death Eaters by working with countries that still supported them. "These children," he said, "Are doing the best they can to help rebuild our world. And they shall not be dissuaded from doing as such unless a direct connection between SWAN and Death Eaters can be found."_

XIXIX

XIX

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	8. All Hallows Eve

A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed over these past months. I know it's been an incredibly long wait, and if I were you, I would long ago have decided that I was not ever going to update again. And assuming that's what you thought, I would like to thank you especially for reviewing anyway. I will finish this story. It's too big in my head not to get it out. The major struggle is to get it out in a more timely manner. Thanks for the support.

X

XIX

XIXIX "All Hallows Eve" XIXIX

'Halloween,' thought Harry to himself, lying awake in bed. 'All Hallows Eve. Also known as "The absolute worst day of the year".'

Harry hated Halloween. Nothing good ever seemed to happen on Halloween.

But this year, Harry was going to play it safe. In a few minutes, the wards locking the students inside Gryffindor Tower were going to open, and he was going to sneak into Draco's rooms and stay. All day long, he was going to stay. Draco had traded off his Head Boy duties with several prefects, had argued with Ginny until he was blue in the face that no, he and Harry were not going to the Halloween Dance, and yes, they both appreciated how much work she and the rest of the Dance Committee had put into it, and no, he was not going to try to coax Harry into changing his mind, and yes, Harry bloody well did deserve to hide from the rest of the world one day a year seeing as how he had _never_ hidden from anything when it really mattered.

Honestly, Harry was very impressed with Draco for having calmed his twin. She and Harry had been arguing quite a bit lately, and had grown about as far apart as magical twins could do while still residing in the same tower. Ginny _had_ put a lot of work into the Halloween Dance, and saw Harry's decision to hide away as case in point of Harry's recent and unexplained selfishness to the point of callous disregard for those who cared most about him. Harry was going to suck it up and go, but Draco had taken it upon himself to arrange an entire day for just the two of them, closed off from the rest of the world.

It was really rather sweet.

The sky was beginning to grow light outside the window, but the sun was still a ways from rising. 'Should be about time,' thought Harry, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and quietly pulling on his robes. He crept into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, washed his face, and tried to tame his hair with the half-heartedness one puts toward futile efforts. Then, as an afterthought, he splashed on a bit of the cologne Neville had taken to wearing whenever he was going to be spending the day with Ginny.

The wards would be open by now. Harry briefly considered bringing his invisibility cloak, but decided it wasn't worth the effort of even opening his trunk. He wouldn't be breaking any rules by being out at this hour, and he could just expand his consciousness to see who was around if he didn't want to deal with the hassle of talking to other people on his way. He kind of _liked_ broadening his awareness to what was around him from time to time; it was always a nice reminder that he no longer _had_ to do it _all_ the time.

As luck would have it, he needn't have done it at all. He came across no one during his walk, not even Peeves. "Persephone's hunger," he said, and climbed into Draco's rooms to find every surface draped in silk and lit with candles. Draco himself was sprawled out in bed, his legs tangled in the sheets and one arm thrown up over his head. Harry wasted no time climbing into bed with him and wrapping his arms around quite possibly the most thoughtful boyfriend in the wizarding world.

Draco nuzzled into the touch. "Whutimezzit?" he murmured sleepily.

"Early," said Harry softly into the fine blond hair. "The wards only just opened."

"I didn't think you'd be here so early."

Harry glanced around the well-decorated room. "You certainly prepared for me to be here so early."

Draco smiled, finally looking up into Harry's eyes. "Well," he said. "I had hoped. I just figured you'd wind up sleeping late after all." His nostrils flared and his Adam's Apple slowly bobbed, and he was really, really trying not to yawn in Harry's face.

"It's still early," said Harry. "Go back to sleep."

"No, it's okay," said Draco, but his eyelids were already drifting closed.

"How late were you up?"

"Mmm…" Draco snuggled into Harry's neck and muttered, "About the time 'really late' turns into 'really early', I should think. I had a lot to prepare for today."

Harry held him close, and listened as Draco's breath became deep and even once again. He'd really gone to a lot of trouble; Harry still couldn't believe someone would do all this for him. Especially not after how he'd been acting lately—his temper, his inability to answer questions….

A sharp pain flared behind his eyes, but Harry was already thinking again about how content he was, lying there with Draco in his arms.

"Happy Halloween, Harry," Draco whispered.

"Yeah," whispered Harry in return. "It just might be."

XIXIX

Less than five minutes after Harry left Gryffindor Tower, Ron was dressed and ready to go as well. He'd been watching Harry get ready, and had noticed he hadn't gone into his trunk, which hopefully meant…

Yes. The invisibility cloak was still there.

Harry would never have considered _not_ allowing Ron or Hermione the use of his cloak, so it never even entered into Ron's mind that he oughtn't take it without permission. Rather, the brief guilt he felt was for not telling Harry or Hermione what he was doing. But it was better that they not know exactly what he was getting into. It would make things easier in the long run.

Several hours later, he was late to breakfast, and angrier than he ought to have been so early in the morning. The wizard at the Owl Post Office had tried to be helpful at first, but by the time Ron left, had seemed _pleased_ even, in a self-satisfied sort of way, that he was unable to procure any letters from the morning post for the furiously impatient red-head.

It wasn't the man's fault that Ron hadn't heard back from his correspondent. In all fairness, Ron had no right to have allowed his temper to manifest along the spectrum from annoyance, to condescension, to thinly veiled threats. If Ron hadn't been quite so angry about his lost opportunity, he might have considered going back and apologizing to the postman. But as it was, it was Halloween and Ron would likely be spending the evening at a hokey school dance rather than furthering his research.

At least Hermione would be happy he was going to the dance.

A similarly unfair stab of bitterness pierced through Ron at the thought. In truth, Hermione had no idea what it would cost for Ron to spend the night at the dance—why _shouldn't_ she be happy he was going? But once again Ron let his anger shove aside these concessions in favor of more anger.

He loaded up his plate, scowling at his eggs as he did so. Hermione took one look at him, summed up his mood, and turned back to her conversation with Ginny and Neville, barely skipping a beat.

Typical. She couldn't even be arsed to provoke him into a fight now that he was good and ready to have one. Since when had Hermione avoided conflict with Ron?

_Since you started yelling at her every time she spoke to you,_ hissed a reproachful voice in his head. Ron knew it was right and he ought to try harder, but now was not the time for that.

He didn't bother to look up when he heard the familiar flurry of wings above. All of his important mail came through Hogsmeade nowadays. A tawny owl swooped down to bring Hermione her Daily Prophet. Neville's Gran had sent him a package. Lavender was squealing down the row about some new perfume she'd gotten mail order…

And then a grating _caw_ above his head actually broke Ron away from his simmering mood. He looked up to see a crow resting on the pitcher of pumpkin juice, one beady black eye focused squarely on him.

"It can't be," he said, reaching forward and untying a letter from its left leg. The crow barely moved.

Ron quickly unrolled the scroll and scanned it, positioning it so that Hermione could not read over his shoulder. "It can't be," he said again, muttering to himself. "I don't believe it."

Then, looking up at the crow, he nodded. "I'll be there," he said.

The crow cocked its head in understanding, let out another grating _caw_, and took off. Ron held the letter tightly in his fist, his heart swelling in excitement tinged with trepidation as he looked around at his friends, who were staring curiously at him. Ginny batted away a particularly persistent owl, ignoring the letter it was trying to deliver in favor of finding out who had sent her brother a post by crow.

"Well?" she said finally, when Ron didn't say anything.

"Nothing," he said. But he turned to Hermione and grinned suddenly. "I have to go," he said quickly, and pressed his lips flat against hers. "Love you."

Ron stood up and left the Great Hall at a half-run. There was so much to do, so many contingencies for which to plan… and protection. He would definitely need protection….

"Um," said Hermione, as though speaking to a boyfriend who was still sitting next to her at the breakfast table, "Go where?"

The empty space did not answer. She waited another moment, and then turned back to Neville and Ginny. "For the record," she said, "He has officially lost complaining rights for the times I jump up and run to the library."

Ginny considered this. "Sounds fair to me."

She reached over to finally accept the letter from the owl, which was currently scraping around in her food, making a general mess of things.

"Anyway," she said, opening the letter. But there was a puff of smoke and Ginny hit the floor, dead white and unconscious. Neville groaned, falling out of his seat in a droopy parody of jumping to the rescue of the redhead on the floor next to him. When he landed, he was passed out by her side.

Hermione looked at them both in muted alarm, felt a little woozy, and then landed in her porridge.

XIXIX

Draco woke because Harry was cold against him. His sleepy discomfort quickly turned to alarm and then to panic. They were still cuddled together, but Harry was white as a ghost and was not breathing.

"Oh God, no," choked Draco, allowing himself only that moment to lose control. He wanted to scream and shake, but a gut-level voice of blatant denial hissed resolutely in his head, '_He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead. He's not dead…'_

He flipped Harry over onto his back, and ripped his shirt open from the collar. _God, his skin is so pale._ Harry's chest was a nightmare of cold clamminess against Draco's ear, but Draco held himself firm, counting the seconds and dreading the results. He moved his hands and his heart leapt. He thought he'd heard a beat, but he couldn't be sure since the sound of his own movement could have been the source of the noise he'd heard (_please, God, please_) from Harry's heart.

He completed his movements, grabbing Harry's right wrist and pulling it close, resting two fingers at the pulse point and despairing at the stillness.

But he waited, counting the seconds once again.

_…five, six, seven, eight, nine—THERE!_

Harry's heart had definitely beaten, faint though the beat was. He was not dead. Not yet, anyway. In a matter of seconds, and without really thinking, Draco had flung on some robes, levitated his deathly pale boyfriend, and taken off at a run toward the infirmary, Harry safely in tow.

As he slammed open the doors, screaming for Madam Pomfrey, he just barely registered the sight of Ginny in the bed directly in front of him.

'Of course,' Draco thought dismissively, 'She would also be affected by whatever was doing this to Harry.'

Having seen them sharing the same infirmary bed enough times that he didn't need to think twice about it, Draco had already lowered Harry into the bed next to her, and was busy arranging him before Madam Pomfrey came rushing in.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, what else can happen?" she half-cried as she hurried forward.

Before she even finished her question Draco was motioning to Harry, growing frantic once again. But upon seeing the two young men, Madam Pomfrey stopped and sighed, and she even looked a little… relieved.

It was not the reaction Draco had been expecting.

"He's dying!" he shrieked. "You've got to help him!"

Madam Pomfrey drew herself up at his tone. "He will be quite fine, Mr. Malfoy," she snapped, "As soon as Professor Snape completes the antidote."

Draco opened his mouth to argue. She couldn't possibly already know what was wrong with him. Severus couldn't possibly already be brewing the antidote. But the stern mediwitch spoke over him.

"It's Ms. Weasley you should be more concerned about. _She _was the one who was poisoned." She paused for a moment to let that sink in. When Draco's head suddenly snapped over to look at Ginny, she continued. "No doubt Mr. Potter is suffering the effect of the poison through their twin bond. Although I _am_ surprised he didn't block it at its onset," she mused. "He has done so in the past, has he not?"

Draco blinked, surprised into calm by this new information. Harry was okay. It was Ginny who'd been attacked. Harry was suffering from her attack.

But Madam Pomfrey had a point. Why _wouldn't_ he have blocked their link when he'd been so cavalier about doing so over the past few months?

"We were asleep," he said dumbly, realizing the answer as he said it. "Maybe he couldn't focus enough to block the link before the effects of the poison hit him." Draco reached over and rested his hand on Ginny's forehead. Her skin was also cold and clammy like death. It was horrific to feel. And the memories it brought back….

"What happened to her? Who did this?"

Madam Pomfrey let out a frustrated and disapproving breath. "The culprit," she spat, "Remains unknown. Ms. Weasley was opening her mail this morning when she inhaled a dose of Draught of Living Death…"

"What!"

"Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom were less affected," she continued, motioning to two beds that Draco had, until now, completely ignored. "But I'm afraid they, too, will be unconscious until Severus completes the antidote."

"Oh Merlin," said Draco, feeling rather faint himself as his adrenaline rush began to subside. He sank against the edge of the bed next to Harry, absently rubbing his boyfriend's cold arm. "Who would do that?" he asked. Ginny didn't have any enemies.

"Idiots," Madam Pomfrey answered, approaching Draco with her wand out. She made a quick swipe over him and then placed a hand on his forehead. He tried to wave her away, but was unsuccessful. "Someone who has noticed the frequent occurrence in the Daily Prophet of Ms. Weasley's name in the same article, and oftentimes same _sentence_, as Death Eaters loyalists. It's criminal, if you ask me, the way they've been implicating her of sympathies without ever actually _accusing_ her. Just little hints here, a few snips there… suddenly people believe that SWAN isn't helping anyone on the planet except Death Eaters!" She conjured Draco a glass of water. "Absolutely criminal."

"Ginny loyal to Death Eaters?" scoffed Draco. "That's absurd! She's _Harry Potter's_ twin sister."

"Drink you water," ordered Madam Pomfrey as she began to rearrange Harry and Ginny on the bed. "And of course it's absurd. That's why they can't say it straight out. No one would believe it if anyone _said_ it. But the implications are there. Let people's imaginations run away with them, and they'll believe it soon enough."

"But what reason could the Daily Prophet possibly have…?"

Madam Pomfrey tutted and shook her head. But before she could answer, a voice from the door startled them both.

"The Daily Prophet is in the pocket of the Ministry," said Severus coldly. "And the Ministry is reeling from the international success of a small school club." He stepped forward, producing three vials from his pocket, and handed them to Madam Pomfrey.

"But SWAN is helping the wizarding world to recover," argued Draco, eyeing the vials, and then his godfather.

"Exactly," said Severus. "The Minister's recent popularity was based on his wartime efforts. When there was chaos and dissent, the people turned to Harry as a savior, but they turned to Fudge for rationality. He kept society running more or less, and that's a great strength for an elected official in a time of strife. But now that the war is over, his popularity is dwindling as people begin to focus more on his weaknesses than strengths."

Draco narrowed his eyes, beginning to understand. "He's botching the trials again; there are still Death Eaters at large; the wizarding world is struggling to regain itself after heavy losses… But what does any this have to do with Ginny?"

Madam Pomfrey lifted the Weasley in question and tilted her head back in order to pour one of the potions down her throat. It was a thick, viscous, muddy looking concoction, and very slow to drain into Ginny's mouth.

"Ms. Weasley has become more popular than Fudge in recent months," explained Severus. "They're still looking for a hero. Harry saved them from the Dark Lord, and now his twin is a new rising star who might be able to lead us from our current problems."

"So Fudge has been out to discredit her," added Madam Pomfrey, shaking the vial slightly in order to coax the last bit out. "SWAN is working to rebuild a cohesive wizarding world, which is directly opposed to Fudge's policy."

Severus' face was steel as he said, "He wants us to distrust other magical governments. He thinks that as long as there is a threat, we'll huddle under his guidance. He is banking his entire reelection on this premise."

"That's absurd," said Draco.

Madam Pomfrey laid Ginny back into her pillows, and moved to administer the antidotes to Hermione and Neville. Very slowly, Ginny and Harry began to return to their normal color. After several minutes, their skin began to feel warmer to the touch, and Draco could just barely hear them breathing slow, quiet breaths. It was as though they were returning from the dead.

"How much longer until they wake up?" he asked.

"About fifty-seven minutes," said Severus. "Ginny will wake last, as she received the full dose. They'll all be tired for two days though, I should think."

The door opened and Dumbledore walked in, looking serious, but not quite grave.

"How are they?" he asked, his eyes on Severus.

"They'll be fine," answered Madam Pomfrey as she hoisted Neville into a semi-seated position. "Professor Snape has just completed the antidote. They should all be awake within the hour."

"Very good," said Dumbledore, adding, "Severus, might I have a word?"

"Of course, Albus," said Severus, and the two stepped through the door.

XIXIX

As soon as they were standing in the hallway, Severus turned to Dumbledore, not even bothering to close the door to the infirmary. "What has happened?" he asked.

"Severus," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I've just gotten some bad news. I wanted to tell you before you read it in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning."

All the color drained from Severus' face. "What has happened?" he asked again, dreading the worst, expecting the Death Eaters to have risen again, expecting the Ministry to have begun executing innocents, expecting Lucius Malfoy to have somehow returned from the dead….

"Julian Solis is dead, Severus." He said it quickly and quietly, and it took Severus several seconds to stop rolling through list upon list of 'things to dread' and focus instead upon the words Dumbledore had spoken.

A heavy weight settled on his heart, pressing down on the mixture of relief and despair that ebbed upward from within.

"Of course he is," Severus stated calmly. "We've known that for years. What has happened?"

"They found his body today, Severus." Dumbledore's hand was on his shoulder. "He is recently dead. Within the past year."

Dumbledore's hand was heavy, and Severus fought not to slump under the weight on his shoulder. So Julian was dead. Severus had known that for years.

_But now it's true_.

"Yes," he said.

"Are you all right, my boy?"

"Yes," he repeated. "Yes. Will there be a funeral?"

"No," replied Dumbledore quietly. "Not with his background."

"Of course." Severus was quiet and Dumbledore watched him. Finally, he said, "Albus, I have things to attend to. Thank you for informing me of Julian's…."

But Severus trailed off. He turned around and walked away. He just walked away.

XIXIX

Hermione woke first. She was slow and confused, and Draco had to explain to her twice what had happened before she seemed to understand at all. Groggily, she asked, "Where's Ron?" and Draco had to agree that that was a bloody good question. Wouldn't he have been with them at breakfast? Wouldn't he know his sister and his girlfriend had been poisoned and would need someone to be there for them when they awoke?

'Piss-ant bugger,' he thought to himself, grumbling in his head.

Hermione was dopey and couldn't stand when she tried. But then Madam Pomfrey came in and forbade her to try again until she had recovered a bit more. After the antidote, it would just take time. Even a simple Pepper-Up Potion might interfere with the working of the antidote, leaving Hermione unconscious again.

When Neville woke up, he fell out of his bed trying to go over to check on Ginny. The mediwitch had thoroughly scolded him after that, and Neville, not quite back up to speed, had muttered a contrite, "Sorry, Gran," as she helped him to settle back into bed.

Ginny and Harry began to stir fifty-seven minutes and seventeen seconds after Severus had told Draco as much. Their first purposeful movements since Ginny had ripped open that letter were to wrap themselves more securely around each other. Draco sat forward in his chair and rested his hand on Harry's arm. It was warm and alive and he could hear Harry and Ginny breathing deeply as they began to wake.

After a few moments, two pairs of eyes blinked open and locked. The twins were completely absorbed in each other as they struggled to regain consciousness.

Draco paused, and then asked, "Are you two okay?"

Harry turned lazy, drunken eyes to his boyfriend and smiled, but didn't seem to understand what Draco had asked him. Instead of answering, he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'Severus' and Draco carefully did not scowl. Ginny gave him a similarly vacant smile and then the two twins settled back into each other, lazing comfortably.

XIXIX

The afternoon was pretty well shot by the time the four poisoning victims were fully conscious and alert once more. Madam Pomfrey was intent upon keeping everyone in her care for the following 24 hours, just to be safe, but all of them protested.

Ginny and Neville had worked very hard on the Dance Committee, and were determined that they would not miss the dance after all of the work they had put into its organization. They were both already horrified that they had missed so many daylight hours they'd meant to spend decorating the Great Hall with the rest of the Committee. Madam Pomfrey tried to tell them that the other members of the Committee had been through and were far more interested in Ginny and Neville's recovery than in them rushing in half-cured to overexert themselves throwing together at huge gala.

But then Draco looked up and said, "They couldn't have said that! You haven't let anyone else through the infirmary to see them at least since I've been here."

Madam Pomfrey huffed and threw up her hands in exasperation, exclaiming, "Well, I'm sure that's what they _would have said_ if they _had_ come through!"

Ginny latched onto the admission of falsehood with a vengeance, and in the end, Madam Pomfrey agreed to allow her to leave, only then realizing that since Ginny had been the worst off, the mediwitch had no more leverage to use to keep the others in their hospital beds.

Ginny, Neville, and Hermione headed back to the Great Hall happily if not somewhat sluggishly. Hermione had decided that since her day was lost for studying, and Ron appeared to be MIA once again, then she would go on and help the Dance Committee with their decorations.

Draco and Harry strolled back through the halls at their own leisure toward Draco's rooms. Harry slung his arm over Draco's shoulder in an affectionate way that nonetheless assisted the Gryffindor in walking his tired walk. He was well awake now, but had not gone to the trouble of blocking his link with Ginny so that he could be his fully energetic and normal self. He figured that the worst was already over. Had he been awake at the time, there may have been a use to blocking his link with Ginny so that he could stay conscious. But now that Ginny was awake, there was no use making them both so very uncomfortable just so that he could feel less drowsy. He couldn't have done that to his twin.

Draco opened his portrait door with the full intention of doing everything in his power to give his boyfriend his promised good day. And he was well aware that he had quite a bit of catching up to do, since his boyfriend's twin had been poisoned and all… but Draco was up for the challenge.

He was not expecting, however, to see a very anxious House Elf standing just inside the door, wringing his hands restlessly. Draco groaned to himself. He'd forgotten about Dobby.

"Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked the Elf in relief and delight. "Master Draco! Dobby has been waiting here with your meals, ready to serve them hot for Harry Potter, sir's, special Halloween day! Dobby has not gone _anywhere_, sirs, so that sirs' meals would be fresh and hot the moment sirs returned!"

With that, the House Elf bowed very low, his mountain of hats tipping precariously, and snapped his fingers. Behind him on Draco's table, appeared not one, but two feasts—both breakfast and lunch. Apparently, Dobby had been waiting for quite some time.

Harry carded his hand through his hair and smiled, turning to Draco. "You set this up too?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," said Draco, looking back over to the table that was beginning to bow under the weight of the food. "I kind of forgot about Dobby, though, when I woke up and found you… like you were." He shuddered at the thought of it.

Harry leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, babe," he said, and wandered over to the table. Dobby immediately attacked him with a chair to sit in, a napkin in his lap, and a wide variety of hovering drinks to choose from.

Draco slid into the opposite chair as Harry tucked into his meal with a sleepily contented smile. He blinked slowly and then smiled even wider.

"Ginny's jealous," he said. "They're eating snacks while they set up for the dance, but she says it's nothing compared to the feast we have here."

Draco smiled back because it was a compliment and he was _not_ annoyed that Harry was carrying on a silent conversation in his head while Draco was sitting right there. Harry had every right to brag a bit to his twin and Draco would not ask questions or be clingy or complain to him because, by god, if his godfather was going to sit silent and supportive of Draco's boyfriend, Draco was sure as hell going to do it better. And if Harry was going to open up to someone, Draco had an uphill battle to make sure it was _him_ Harry talked to rather than one of his bondmates.

"Tell her she should cancel the dance and come stay with us for the night," he said, and Harry snorted, just like Draco knew he would.

"I think she'd rather eat skrewt shite than cancel the dance," he said, grinning as he shoved another forkful of pasta in his mouth.

"Ah, what a shame," sighed Draco dramatically. "I guess we'll just have to spend the evening all alone…" Harry's eyebrows twitched, but Draco pushed on. "Whatever will we do with ourselves?" he asked suggestively.

Harry pretended to think about it. "Well, I _am_ a little behind on my homework," he said.

"You? Don't even pretend you have to _try_ at all in school this year." Which, of course, Harry didn't. With Severus' memories locked firmly inside his brain, everything they were taught in their NEWT level classes was review.

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Who'd have thought that Sev would be as anal a student as he is a teacher?" He furrowed his brow suddenly, and Draco knew what was coming. He opened his mouth to change the subject, but it was too late. "Where is Severus, anyway?" Harry asked rhetorically. "He's been closed off to me since I woke up."

"I don't know," said Draco neutrally. "Dumbledore talked to him when he came to the infirmary with the Living Death antidote. He seemed to want to be alone after that."

_Alone, and not with you, Harry. He wants to be alone. He doesn't want you to leave me on our day together. He wants to be alone._

But Harry looked concerned. "Do you know what they talked about?"

"Dumbledore said someone died, but Severus said he already knew about it. He said he'd known for years."

Harry was holding his fork very still three inches above his plate. He looked very serious all of the sudden. "Did you hear who it was?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "I'd never heard of him. Julio or something."

_He wants to be alone, Harry._

"Julian Solis?" Harry asked quietly.

"Maybe." Draco tried to keep his voice light, tried to keep Harry calm, keep him there. "But he said that he already knew, whoever it was."

Harry scowled. "I doubt he was happy about it if it _was_ Julian Solis," he said, a slight edge to his voice. "Jesus. Did he seem upset?"

"It's hard to say, Harry," Draco replied with a brave attempt to keep his growing irritation from coming through in his voice. "He was already pretty pissed off that Ginny had been poisoned. He seems to think it's because the Ministry has been using the Daily Prophet to defame her."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, and he looked away. "I feel like I need to do something to protect her, but she hardly tolerates my company nowadays."

Draco didn't smile that he had successfully changed the subject. "Madam Pomfrey agrees with him about it," he said.

"She would. She pays attention, doesn't she?"

"I'm sure Ginny's safe, Harry. So they'll put in some extra watches on the owl post or something. Dumbledore won't let anything happen to her while she's here."

Harry gave a wry smile. "What? Like let Death Eaters abduct her and put her under the Cruciatus Curse right by the lake? Or maybe letting her sniff a dose of Living Death in the Great Hall?"

"Harry! You can't possibly blame Dumbledore for all of that."

Harry looked at him sarcastically. "_You're_ defending him?"

"Well, no. I still think he's a dotty old bastard, but he's cleverer than most and he really cares about the students here. And it's not his fault anyway that whackos keep trying to attack students."

"Still," said Harry, "I'm just saying that he can't do everything. He can't be everywhere. I've got to do a better job protecting my twin."

Draco didn't answer that; he didn't disagree.

"You didn't answer my question," Harry noted. "He's not answering me."

He looked genuinely concerned, and for a moment, Draco felt guilty for not having mentioned earlier that someone Severus knew had died. He _had_ seemed upset. Was it selfish of him to still insist that this day was for himself and Harry to be together? Was it selfish of him to want Harry to put him first? And if it was selfish, did Draco even care?

"He said he knew already. He was really quiet. He thanked Dumbledore for telling him and then he walked away. I thought he'd come back to make sure there were no problems with the antidote, but obviously he didn't." Draco made a face and looked Harry straight in the eye. "So yes," he said, "I agree that he's probably not very happy about the news, but I think he's okay."

Harry nodded once and looked away, letting his gaze fall to his plate. "The thing is, Draco," he said and Draco knew he'd lost, "_I do_ know who Julian Solis is. I remember him. I remember who he was and what he meant to Severus. So _I know_ he's not okay right now."

"Harry—" Draco started, but Harry cut him off.

"Draco, he…" His voice caught and Draco realized that his boyfriend was fighting not to cry. "Julian was..."

He couldn't finish his sentence. Draco jumped up and went to him and Harry slumped into his chest, shivering. The Slytherin put his arms around his boyfriend protectively. "It's okay, Harry," he murmured. His left hand strayed into untidy black locks and he smoothed them idly and unsuccessfully.

"It's not me... It's not _Harry_ that's upset. _I_ didn't lose him. Severus did. Again. It's just... Jesus, the last time..."

Harry stopped again. His shivering had subsided somewhat. Draco didn't know what to do, so he just held on and waited, hoping to be able to hold on forever.

"Who was he?" he whispered.

"Julian and I… Julian and Severus got together during the first war. They had an off and on relationship for several years after, while Severus was getting his Masters. Julian got a job with the Department of Mysteries and they saw less and less of each other until Julian disappeared. Then he was declared dead. But the Department of Mysteries wouldn't release his body for a funeral because of the sensitivity of his job. At least… that's what they said at the time."

Draco sighed, sad for his godfather, but honestly, also thinking of Harry's own status with the Ministry—with his life, and death, as secretive and legally protected as anyone in the Department of Mysteries. Draco wondered if Harry would ever tell him that he had arranged his legal status so that Harry could disappear at any time, and if he didn't come back, Draco would never even know what happened.

"That's awful," he said.

"I have to go to him, Draco," Harry murmured into his chest. "You do understand, don't you?"

Draco didn't say anything, but he nodded, because he certainly understood something. Harry couldn't have seen him nod, buried as he was in Draco's embrace. He couldn't have felt it. But he seemed to know, and he accepted the answer as permission to go.

XIXIX

Hermione tried to look busy in the Gryffindor common room with piles and piles of homework that could not be put off until tomorrow. But the fact was, the dance had already started and Ron had not yet returned from wherever he'd run off to during breakfast. Since then, Hermione had been poisoned, had spent several hours recovering in the infirmary, had helped to decorate the Great Hall for the dance, had beautified herself, and had then come up to Gryffindor Tower to sit down and do homework until her _date_ reappeared from his mysterious, but apparently extraordinarily important, appointment.

She was fuming.

When Lavender came down, Hermione decided she'd had enough waiting. Lavender was always the last person to make it to the dance because she always spent so very much time getting ready. Ron wasn't coming back, and Hermione felt she'd been playing the idiot hoping that he would when at best all she'd been able to get out of him was a "_probably_" he'd go to the dance anyway. She had just been convinced that if she'd been with him during the day of the dance that he'd go. But he wasn't there. And he wasn't coming.

"Hermione," Lavender sighed. She was using that especially annoying voice of hers that she saved for times she was exasperated, and especially when she was exasperated with Hermione for being too academic. But Hermione was already so thoroughly annoyed with herself that she couldn't bring herself to be even more annoyed with Lavender at the moment.

The young woman in question strode over to Hermione with as much purpose as she could muster. "That is _it_, Hermione Granger. It's Saturday night. It's Halloween. There's a dance. You're even _dressed_ already for the dance, but you're sitting here in the common room... _studying!_" Lavender cocked her head _just so_ and Hermione understood for the first time that when Lavender used that voice, she wasn't _whining_ so much as _joking._ She blinked at the realization.

"Come on," Lavender continued. "Up. You're coming to the dance. I don't care how much Arithmancy you have left."

"I'm working on Potions," she said.

Lavender waved her words away. "Same thing." Hermione bit her lip not to laugh. "Now come along. The delicate few moments between fashionably late and embarrassingly tardy are slipping away from us."

Hermione shook her head and sat back, trying not to look glum. "I should wait for Ron..." she began.

Lavender made a face. "Why? So you can sit and sulk over homework while he's out doing... whatever it is he and Harry have been up to when they disappear lately?"

"They have every right to go wherever they want after everything they've done for the wizarding world," Hermione snapped, and Lavender raised her hands to placate her.

"Of course they do. I'm just saying, when they go, they're leaving you behind."

"They're not leaving me behind!"

"Okay," said Lavender softly, sliding into the seat across from Hermione. "But they are leaving, and then you just sit around waiting for them to come back. You're not helpless without them, Hermione. You _can_ do things without them. You _can_ enjoy yourself without them."

Hermione bit her lip, suddenly afraid she was going to cry, and not entirely sure why.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Lavender sighed and her gaze drifted down to the vicinity of Hermione's left shoulder. She gave a weak smile. "Because it took Parvati months to convince me I could continue my life without Seamus. I just hate seeing you like this over people who are even still alive."

"Oh, Merlin, Lavender. I'm sorry," said Hermione wretchedly. "I didn't realize… I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Again Lavender waved her words away with an almost flippant gesture that didn't fit with the rest of her body language. She looked so tired.

"How are you?"

Lavender smiled lamely. "Some days are better than others. Mostly I wish I could have been out on the battlefield with him. I mean, I know... Parvati tells me all the time that… and I _know_..." she swallowed hard before she continued, "I know what we did in the catacombs was really important. I know if we hadn't had the séance, a lot of people wouldn't have lasted until reinforcements came. _And_, we kept a lot of the younger students safe. It's just that... I should have been with him."

"You should have done exactly what you did," Hermione said firmly. "You were really great."

"_You _were great." Lavender looked her hard in the eye suddenly, but a moment later giggled. "God," she said, "When I think of all the grief you gave us about Divination... and you're a natural Seer! I'm sorry," she laughed unapologetically, "But that's just precious!"

Hermione huffed, making Lavender laugh all the harder.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

Lavender wiped at the tears that were beginning to stream from her eyes.

Hermione pursed her lips.

And then she smiled.

"There!" Lavender pointed at her victoriously and stood up abruptly. "Okay, now you're ready to go to the dance. How's my make-up?"

XIXIX

"Hello, invisible one," hissed the stone serpent that guarded the entrance to Severus' quarters. Harry almost smiled. He hadn't come to Severus' quarters hidden in his invisibility cloak for quite some time, yet the serpent still persisted in calling him 'invisible one'. He decided that the serpent must consider that to be his name. It was better than some names he'd been given in his life.

"Hello. Is Severus in?" hissed Harry in Parseltongue

"He is not seeing anyone," the serpent replied.

"Will you tell him that I am here?"

"He is not seeing anyone," repeated the serpent.

Harry made a face. "But I'm his bondmate. Surely he would make an exception."

"He was very specific," hissed the serpent. "He is not seeing anyone, yourself included."

Harry didn't breathe, was silent for several moments. Then, "He mentioned me by name?"

"Yes."

A stillness settled in his chest. That really stung. Julian was dead. Harry was hurting probably as much as Severus, but Severus wouldn't let him in. Harry had given up his day with Draco. It wasn't fair. After everything they'd been through together. After all the other shit he'd had to put up with these past years...

Harry could feel the pressure beginning to mount, and he just let it go. His heart was pounding; he could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead; he began to shake.

"Could you tell Severus please," he hissed in a deadly voice, "That if he doesn't let me in, in the next thirty seconds, that I am going to enter by force, and that I will blow up the door if I have to."

The serpent was silent for some time, and all the while Harry let his emotions wash through him—his grief and anger and helplessness, and shame at the threats he was now making just to be with his bondmate.

After twenty seconds, he felt Severus' mind touch his briefly, as if to see if Harry was serious in his threat. Upon noting that he was, Severus' mind slid the new password into Harry's consciousness. Harry blinked. His heightened emotions fled.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said aloud.

'_No_,' Severus thought back. He sealed his mind from Harry once more, but not before Harry caught a whiff of arrogant amusement at Harry's expense.

Harry glared at the serpent. He was not in the mood for dealing with his old password prank he had begun so many months ago with the stone guardian to Severus' door. But it seemed the only way to enter was to play along and say the password.

Harry considered his options, and decided it would be far easier to say in Parseltongue.

"Gobble Bogey Boggle Boggart Bobble," he hissed.

"I'm sorry," replied the serpent officiously, "But the passwords to Professor Snape's quarters are all in English."

Harry swore imaginatively.

"I'm sorry," began the serpent, "But—"

"I know that's not the password!" Harry snapped.

The serpent was silent. Harry continued to glare.

Then, "Gobble Bogey Gobby… damn it!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Fuck you. Gobble Bogey Gobble Bobble… Gobble Boggy…"

Harry paced, trying to rein in his anger. His frustration was only tying his tongue further. He took a deep breath, and began again very slowly, speaking through clenched teeth.

"Gobble. Bogey. Boggle. Boggart. Bobble."

The door swung open. Harry stormed in, and almost ran headlong into Severus who was standing imperiously four feet inside the door with his arms crossed. He glared down at Harry through eyes that were red and furious.

"Why didn't you just open the damn door for me!" Harry demanded. "I should have blown it down."

"I see no reason for such behavior," Severus snapped. "You are an adult and the purported Savior of the Wizarding World…"

"And you're my bondmate," Harry snapped back. "What about your behavior? I spend the afternoon in a coma, and then I have to hear from _Draco _that Julian has died! Did you think this wasn't going to affect me too!"

"_You never knew Julian!_" Severus thundered.

"_I knew him as well as you!_" Harry screamed back. In a lower tone he added, "I loved him."

"You _did not_," spat the Potions Master into Harry's face, "Because _I_ did not. It was a long time ago, and Julian has been dead already a number of years."

"Why are you lying to yourself, Severus?" asked Harry evenly. "Why not accept the truth for what it is?"

Severus turned and began to stride away. Then he stopped abruptly and looked down to his left so that Harry could see a sliver of his profile. His eyes were open but unfocused, as though he saw nothing that was present in the room with him.

"There is no use in accepting the truth for what it… what it _was._ Julian is gone. That is all. You shouldn't have come here, Harry."

"Did you really expect me to stay away?"

"I—" Severus paused. "I expected you to stay with your boyfriend, and especially after your ordeal this morning. I understand that Draco went to some trouble for the two of you to have a day all to yourselves." Severus turned around and caught Harry in his gaze. His eyes were void of all emotion, but his face looked strained and tired.

"He did," Harry said simply.

Severus sighed. "Are you and Ginny well?"

Harry nodded. "We are."

"Go back to him, Harry. He loves you and he's here. Julian never knew you. He never cared for you. He wouldn't appreciate you grieving for him now. And even in my own life, he's so far into the past that it shouldn't matter anymore."

Harry stepped forward to his bondmate. He reached his hand out tentatively and touched Severus' sleeve, just about his elbow. He tried to hold his gaze, but Severus looked away, over Harry's shoulder and into nothing.

"Sev," he whispered, but his gaze remained unmet. "Severus. I'm here. I'm here now. I'm here always."

Severus stirred slightly, but then settled again without changing his stance or expression.

"You should go, Harry," he said flatly.

"No," Harry replied. "I'm not going anywhere."

Then Severus looked at him, suddenly and hard in a heated stare that was full of passion and anger and grief. And he moved toward Harry and for the briefest of moments, Harry thought he was going to kiss him and he didn't move away. But then Severus broke himself free from their close position and crossed the room quickly and purposefully.

"I need a drink," he said. "Stay if you must."

XIXIX

The Great Hall was caught in a typhoon of magic when Hermione and Lavender entered. It was near pandemonium, with the students laughing and dodging in and out of teachers, who were firing spells all over the room. Some of the teachers looked frantic, some of them embarrassed. Professor Dumbledore stood off to the side looking greatly amused, sipping from his punch cup.

"What is going on?" said Hermione in wonder at the sight before her.

"I have no idea," replied Lavender, equally stunned. "Come on, let's go find out!" She latched onto Hermione's arm and dragged her into the insanity.

Hermione pulled out her wand, but as she and Lavender weaved their way through the teeming masses of hysteria, she soon found there was no need for her to bother protecting herself. None of the spells being fired were dangerous in any way. It was quickly clear to her that the teachers were rounding up some sort of prohibited paraphernalia. Hermione had no doubt that whatever it was, was something from the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Their prohibited products had been making their way into the castle since school began. Every now and again, Hermione would manage to confiscate a few items, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out how they were getting into Hogwarts to begin with, and everyone was closed-lipped about it. She'd even offered a first year she'd caught a pass from the detention she'd assigned him if he'd tell, but he took his punishment. It was almost as though the Weasley twins were somehow hand-selecting students they sold to, choosing only students who would steadfastly guard the secret of how the items wound up in the castle.

It was baffling, but Hermione would get to the bottom of it. The Weasley twins hadn't yet beaten her and she didn't intend that they ever would.

Lavender suddenly dove forward into a tight crowd, spinning herself and Hermione in circles. They emerged from the other side of the crowd with a third person and a handful of wizarding photographs.

"Lavender!" squealed the third person, and then continued talking with mile-a-minute matter-of-factness that could make one's head spin. "I wondered when you'd get here! I'm glad you didn't miss everything—the chaos has died down, and I think they've got just about everything—but oh my goddess Aphrodite! Have you seen these yet? Oh, hi, Hermione."

"Hi, Parvati," said Hermione as the three girls leaned in to take a look at the stack of photos.

Hermione and Lavender both shrieked when they realized what they were looking at.

"Holy golden calf!"

"Merlin's beard!"

"That can't be!"

"Is it really?"

"There's no way!"

"Are these real!"

"They couldn't be! It's impossible!"

"But it looks real! Oh my sweet lord! Is he wearing—"

"Bunny slippers!"

The three girls burst into a fit of hysteric laughter at the photograph they were staring at. An image of Professor Flitwick wandered around a bedroom full of miniaturized furniture, getting ready for bed. He was wearing white cotton underwear that left far too little to the imagination, and, yes—bunny slippers.

"Where did these come from?" gasped Hermione through her laughter.

"No one knows," said Parvati. She began flipping through the pictures again. There were photos of McGonagall, Sinistra, Filch, Snape and Dumbledore—all getting ready for bed in their various nighttime attire. Parvati continued, "But there are more. _All_ of the teachers had their pictures taken—even Binns, although apparently he doesn't even bother with the formality of sleeping. He just reads history books all night—oh! Look out!"

The three girls jumped to the side and tried to stash the pictures away, but they were just a second too slow and Madam Hooch, with Seeker-fast reflexes, had confiscated their stack of photos and incinerated them. Before the girls could protest, the flight professor was already lost in the crowd, searching for more photos to destroy.

Hermione looked around her and noted that the masses of students were becoming more subdued, and disappointed, as the photos disappeared. She turned back to Parvati.

"But where did they come from?" she asked.

Parvati shrugged. "I _told _you. They just showed up. All of the sudden they were everywhere. No one I've talked to knows where they came from—or how they were taken…"

"Which would be the real mystery," agreed Hermione immediately. "Whoever did it could have shrunken the photographs to get them in here. Then all they'd have to do would be to enlarge them without anyone noticing, which would be easy enough."

"But _how_ did they take them?" asked Lavender. "How could they possibly get into the teacher's quarters without them noticing—and after curfew, at that!"

"You know, if I didn't know better," said Hermione suspiciously, "I'd think the Weasley twins had snuck back into Hogwarts for this prank."

Parvati raised her eyebrows. "It would certainly take someone as clever to figure out how to pull this off. But I guess we'll find out when they get caught."

"Who says they're gonna get caught?" said a voice from behind Hermione. She turned around to see Draco Malfoy, face as smug as ever, but his eyes were lacking the arrogant gleam she normally associated with that look. "Maybe they'll get away with it," he said.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you Draco?"

Draco pressed his fingertips to his chest in an affronted gesture. "Why, Ms. Granger, I am shocked and appalled you would consider me capable of such low dealings… And anyway, did you see the one of Snape? He would absolutely kill me if I had had anything to do with that."

Lavender cocked her head to one side. "Did all of the teachers get photographed? Because if one teacher—a Head of House for instance—was skipped, we might be able to at least figure out which House the perpetrator belongs to."

Parvati began to scroll through a mental list of all the pictures. Now and again, her face would crack into a smile as she recalled one picture or other with a particularly embarrassing quality to it. "No," she decided finally, "I'm pretty sure all of the teachers were photographed."

"Hmm… Then we don't have any easy leads."

"_Hermione_," Draco turned on his friend with the strained air of someone struggling with patience. "Why would you even want to figure this one out?" She opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off. "I know, I know, it's like the principle of the thing or something. You just _have_ to know everything."

"I don't _have_ to know everything," she shot.

"Yes you do. But just let the teachers worry about this one. I can guarantee that they're all going to want to figure out who did this. So if there's one prankster that's going to get caught, it'll be this guy."

"Or girl," corrected Hermione.

"Or girls," added Lavender. Then she and Parvati began to giggle.

Draco stared at them. "Right."

Something struck Hermione suddenly. "Draco, what are you doing here? Where's Harry?"

A cloud seemed to darken Draco's features. He stepped a bit closer to Hermione and dropped his voice. "He's gone to spend the evening with _Severus_," he said. Then his face lightened determinedly and he continued, "Which is just as well; I have things to attend to."

But his flippant demeanor didn't fool Hermione. And thinking of her own missing boyfriend, and remembering Lavender's advice to her, she made a decision. She grabbed his arm to add force to her words and said, "Have a good time, then. There _is_ life for you outside of Harry Potter."

Draco's mask crumbled for just a moment, and Hermione could clearly see her own emotions reflected in his eyes. Tonight, they were two of a kind—out having fun despite their own heartache, in spite of their boyfriends—or maybe _to_ spite them.

Draco grinned false security once again. "Well, I certainly hope so," he said, and winked as he headed off into the crowds.

The music was starting up again. The teachers seemed satisfied they had cleared out the Great Hall of all offending photographs, and the Halloween dance was beginning anew. Hermione looked around, and despite her best efforts, really did wish that Ron were there. Or that she at least knew where he was.

She looked over to Lavender and Parvati, who were giggling and whispering with each other as they looked about the room. Unbidden came memories of herself and Luna and how close they had been. They spent so much time together at the end of the school year last year. They were as close as best friends when the summer began. They whispered and shared secrets, and then their secrets got more complicated.

'She chose Crabbe,' Hermione reminded herself, and had to admit that a lot of what she missed about Luna was the closeness of their friendship. There were moments when she felt she could have spent the rest of her life with Luna—but all of those moments were based on discussion and understanding, and the times they truly connected. True, she missed the more romantic aspects of their relationship as well (Luna was certainly a more empathetic lover than Ron), but that was not all that she missed.

But now Luna had Crabbe, and Hermione was with Ron, and Ron was nowhere to be found, once again. And Draco had told her that she could do better than Ron, but something inside of her resisted considering that as a valid point.

'I want to be in _control_, damn it,' she thought. 'I want to be able to _choose_ who I'm going to be with.'

And it was Ron. It had always been Ron. And, provided he would stick around long enough to see her into the future, it would always _be_ Ron. Ever since first year, and forever after. It had to be Ron, and dear god, she wanted it to be Ron. No one could infuriate her more, but they had a sort of chemistry that Hermione didn't think she could ever do without.

Hermione wandered over to the refreshment table and sampled the punch. She could go to a party alone and it could still be Ron. This didn't mean it was ending. Merlin knew they'd gone through a lot in the war. Of course they needed to find themselves, together and apart.

And she was still convincing herself of all of this when Luna bumped into her.

"Oh, hi, Hermione," she breathed, and Hermione was suddenly so lonely, and so sure that she had lost everything the moment Luna had portkeyed from her living room with her parents' vacuum in tow. God, maybe she _had_ loved Luna. Maybe Luna had been her absolute last chance at happiness…

"Hi."

She missed her. She missed her so much, and what she wouldn't give to have those conversations back, to have that soft touch…

"Are you feeling better? I came round the infirmary earlier, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me in."

Ron didn't even come round the infirmary. Ron didn't even show up all day. Hermione almost groaned at herself for how fickle her emotions could be, assigning love back and forth with alarming speed. What did that say about her?

"Yes, thank you. I'm feeling much better."

Relief seemed to spread over Luna's face, and it seemed like love. It seemed like affection. It seemed as though Hermione could just lean forward and kiss her and then everything would be okay. But then she saw that Crabbe was lumbering along behind Luna, coming toward them. Hermione's mood soured quickly; she had a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I'm so glad to hear it," Luna was saying earnestly, closing the space between them as though they were still close friends. "It was dreadful to watch you collapse like that. I was afraid you'd gotten ahold of some bad aconite."

She seemed so sincere, but Hermione's heart clenched and she was speaking before she could stop herself.

"Aconite? You can't honestly still be on about that!"

"Hermione, what—?"

Hermione stamped her foot. "I was _wrong_, Luna. I admit it. Why can't you let it go? Why do you have to rub it in my face?"

Luna's eyes widened in confusion. "I don't know what you mean," she said lamely.

"Aconite," she explained angrily. "The wolfsbane plant. Professor Lupin showing up at my house that day." Luna's face turned from a picture of confusion to a picture of apologetic horror, just as Crabbe walked up.

"That's not what I meant," she pleaded. "It's just that aconite is…"

"It's just that I never should have told you about that prophecy," she snapped. "Because it wasn't real anyway, but you _still_ would have come that day." Hermione looked from Luna to Crabbe and back again, wondering for a moment if she cared if the truth came out. It turned out that she didn't, but she realized she probably should, so she leaned in and dropped her voice. "You still would have come, but you wouldn't have been so quick to hand me off. You would have stayed with me that day, and you know it. You would have _stayed_, Luna."

There was a desperation in her voice, and Hermione knew it. She hated herself for it. She should have kept it all to herself. She should never let Luna see her falter. Not now. Not after everything. She straightened her back and got her voice under control.

"Have a good time tonight with your boyfriend," she said, nodding to Crabbe. Then she turned and began to walk away.

"Hermione!" Luna ran a few steps to catch up with her. "Hermione, you can run away from a lot of things, but you can't keep running from yourself. You'll always be there."

Hermione kept walking.

XIXIX

As soon as Hermione left the Great Hall, Draco made a beeline for the Tricksters. Kyle and Lokstavian had a dark table to themselves where they sat sipping their punch and enjoying themselves just enough not to be noticeable. They fit perfectly into the background of the dance. Draco joined them at their table.

"Having a good time, fellows?"

"The best," said Loky, holding out his arm and inviting the blond into their discussion. "Were you here?" he asked. "It _was _fabulous."

Draco grinned. "I came in at the end of it. I must say I'm impressed."

"We do what we can," said Kyle humbly, but the glint in his eye hinted how truly pleased he was.

"Okay, I have to ask," began Draco. Kyle and Loky exchanged glances and Draco knew he would probably not get far, but he plowed on nonetheless. "I know you used the Invisibracelets to get the pictures, but _how_ did you get into all of the staff's rooms to begin with!"

Kyle nodded his head. "My dear man," he spoke pompously, "My companion and I are like magicians."

"And we simply cannot reveal our secrets," agreed Loky.

"Fair enough," smiled Draco. "I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your artistic integrity. But I do have a word of warning for you."

"Oh?" asked Kyle, looking bored. "And what would that be, my fair business companion?"

Draco leaned in a bit further. "Hermione Granger."

The Tricksters laughed. "You've told us already," said Loky. "We've been careful."

"Right," said Kyle. "She can't possibly be onto us."

"And she's not—yet. But I have it on her own word that she's interested in looking into this most recent prank. Be careful around her. She's smarter than one would think."

"But she doesn't suspect us," Kyle stated firmly. "We've been around behind her back hundreds of times over the years."

"And granted, it's harder now that the Weasley twins are gone," added Loky.

"Because she doesn't automatically assume it was them anymore."

"But I doubt she even realizes the two of us exist."

Draco looked between the two, reminded not for the first time of Fred and George themselves, and nodded. "Just keep an extra eye out," he said cautiously.

Loky smiled reassuringly. "No problem. But hey, what's the word from P-cubed? Any new products?"

"Hang on a minute," said Kyle. "If we're going to talk business, we need to go back to the Invisibracelets. Tell the Weasleys that they work great initially, but seem to have a limited life span. We've already gone through several of them ourselves, and we've had three customers complain that they get faulty after a few extended uses."

"They're short-term use only?" clarified Draco.

"They are," said Kyle and Loky together.

Draco cleared his throat; a few girls were coming their way. They would have to talk about this another time.

"I know what you're thinking, Draco," said Kyle, "But our grades are really important to us."

The girls settled into seats at the table next to them and began a whispered conversation, interspersed with near-hysteric giggles.

"Our families aren't as well-connected as yours," agreed Loky. "We're going to have to excel at everything in order to secure our futures."

The girls looked over to their table, and erupted into another fit of giggles.

"I just don't think we should be talking academics _here_, _at the dance_," said Draco.

"Then just agree to be our Arithmancy tutor," said Loky. "We'll meet tomorrow afternoon, say, at three o'clock in the old Potions laboratory."

"Say you will," said Kyle.

Draco narrowed his eyebrows. Typically when the Tricksters wanted to meet with him in private, they'd simply set up a study appointment with each other in front of him, with the unspoken understanding that he would drop by. But their asking him specifically to be there signified to him that there was perhaps an issue that would need a great deal of discussion. He would need to bring his books as well. If anyone walked in, it would need to look like they were there for the long haul.

"Of course I'll be there," said Draco. "Anything for my Slytherin brothers. But for now I must be heading on." Draco got up to leave, nodding goodbye to the Tricksters.

"Ah, off to track down your boyfriend?" said Kyle, looking up with an easy smile.

Draco smiled back, but not quite as easily. "Not tonight, fellahs. He is… otherwise engaged."

Kyle and Loky shared a look, and then stood up as well. They were close, as though they had something particularly important to tell him. Draco leaned in expectantly. Kyle reached up and brushed Draco's hair back behind his left ear.

"If you have no particular plans," he whispered, his breath caressing the blonde's ear, "Why don't you tutor us now?"

Draco pulled back and looked at the two, but was unable to tell if they were coming on to him or not. Casual stances, steady eyes, mischievous smirks… 'This must just be business,' he thought. From anyone else, he would be wary. But with these two, he was sure they were just thinking about business. They'd never flirted with him before, or given him any reason to believe they were interested in him for any other reason than his hook-up with the Weasley Wizard Wheezes products.

"Come on," said Kyle lowly, from his other side. "This party is dead anyway."

"I, uh…"

Kyle and Loky shifted suddenly, almost imperceptibly. They were standing no further away, but seemed much less close to him. An arm circled around his neck from behind in a friendly way, and a body pressed into him, hugging him affectionately.

"Hey, Malfoy. Whatcha doin'?"

Draco grinned, and adopted his most aristocratic voice. "I'm enjoying your party, M'lady."

"As well you should be," said Ginny playfully. "Might I have this dance?"

"Of course." Draco pulled free from her embrace and bowed to her. Then, turning back to the Tricksters, he said, "Gentlemen, if you will excuse me."

Ginny took the Slytherin's hand and together they walked onto the dance floor. Ginny rested her hand heavily on Draco's shoulders, reminding Draco that she was probably still quite tired after her dose of Living Death. He slid one arm around her waist, pulling her close, but also holding her up. She leaned against him gratefully.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're exhausted?"

"More than you could imagine."

"Why don't you call it a night and go to bed?"

Ginny shook her head. "No way. We've put way too much work into this dance for me to ditch it now."

Draco snorted. "Yeah. It was just a little poison anyway. Hardly anything when you think about it."

The redhead nodded, hiding a yawn in his shoulder. "Harry's with Severus," she said.

"I know."

"And you came to the dance."

"Obviously."

"Are you angry?"

"Extraordinarily so."

"And with every right," said Ginny. "But if you cheat on my twin, we're gonna have problems."

Draco pulled his head back to look at her. "What! Ginny, I—"

"Probably wasn't planning anything, I know," she said quickly. "But watch those two. They've had their eyes on you all year."

Draco smiled. Of course they had. They'd been in business together all year.

"I help them with Arithmancy and Potions sometimes. It's nothing."

"I don't know about 'nothing'. Watch their eyes," Ginny insisted. "They're always planning something."

"Like what?"

Ginny made a face. "I don't know. I've never seen them really… _do_ anything. But they're cleverer than they seem at first glance. Just pay attention and you'll see it."

"You've been watching them?" grinned Draco.

With only a slight blush at the insinuation, Ginny admitted, "I've been watching Lokstavian."

Draco glanced over his shoulder to the table he'd recently vacated. Kyle and Loky were deep in discussion once again. Kyle was muscular, with hard eyes and sandy blond hair. Loky was the taller of the two, with fair skin, dark black hair and ice blue eyes. "He is rather good-looking," said Draco. "But what about Longbottom?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Why does no one believe me when I say we're just friends?"

"Wait a minute," said Draco. He stopped dancing for just a moment to look Ginny in the eye. "Okay, yes. No. Yes. Wait a minute." He started dancing again, looking very amused at something.

"Wait a minute for what?"

"You and Longbottom are just friends."

"Yes."

"And you've got a bit of a crush on my friend Lokstavian?"

"Well, I really hardly know him. But I wouldn't mind changing that, no."

Draco grinned. "So tell me truthfully." He paused, and was visibly trying not to laugh. "Are you more concerned about me cheating on Harry, or cheating on Harry with this guy in particular?"

Ginny scowled, and Draco laughed out loud. She pushed against him with her elbow, but didn't let go where she clung to his neck.

"Well, I think they're both legitimate concerns," she said, affecting a teacher's tone. "Seeing as how you _have previously_ gone after the _one boy_ I'd ever fallen in love with."

Draco looked incredulous. "You really were in love with Harry?"

Ginny nodded.

"Then how did you become twins?"

"I thought Harry'd already told you all that."

"Yeah, but I mean _why_ did you become his twin if you really were in love with him? He never told me all of that. And I thought you said it was just a crush."

Ginny dropped her head back to his shoulder. "It's a long story, Draco. Some other time. But the moral of this lesson is that if you cheat on my twin, I'll hurt you. But if you cheat on my twin with Lokstavian before I've had a chance with him, I'll _really_ hurt you."

"Well," said Draco, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, "At least you know where your priorities lie."

"I'm serious, Draco. You got a problem with Harry, you need to fix it or let him go. But you have to do one or the other."

"I could say the same to you."

Ginny snorted, rolling her head slightly on his shoulder. "I can't do either," she murmured tiredly. "He won't talk to me about it, so I can't fix it. And we're bonded forever, so I can't let him go."

XIXIX

Harry slumped back in his favorite chair in the sitting area, and was almost asleep before he realized. But as he began to drift, a thought suddenly struck him and he pushed himself into a straighter sitting position with a vague mortification. He was actually sitting in _Severus_' favorite chair—had sat down in Severus' favorite chair without thinking.

"Sorry," he said, launching himself to his feet.

"It's okay," said Severus, coming to the sitting area with a drink in his hand. He slumped into the chair Harry had just vacated. "You should get some sleep anyway, after the day you've had."

"I know. But I wanted to come and check on you."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

Severus sighed deeply and took a drink. "I am not going to argue this point, Harry," he said. "I am capable of discerning my own feelings without your help. I am well aware that you have access to all of my memories, but I don't think I should have to note that that does not make us the same person."

Harry scowled at him. Severus scowled back.

"Yes, I _did_ care for Julian, after a fashion. And yes, even off and on, five years is a long time to be with a person, without later on being affected by their death. And _yes_," he added quickly when Harry began to open his mouth, "It _was_ upsetting to me that Julian disappeared while working as an Unspeakable. And assuming him to be dead is _not_ the same as to finally know. But Harry, please," he said wearily, "Accept the fact that I have mourned him before, and the presence of a body that I won't even get to see merely brings closure to this whole issue."

They stared at each other, and Severus took another drink.

"I understand what you are saying, Severus." Harry leaned forward in his seat and locked gazes with the Potions Master. "But I feel that you are ignoring deeper feelings. I think you have unresolved issues relating to Julian's disappearance."

"Unspeakables disappear sometimes, Harry. They know the possibility when they take on the job. They accept it as Julian accepted it."

"Did you accept it?"

"It was part of who he was. I knew there would be a chance."

"But you didn't like it."

"Of course I didn't like it!" Severus snapped. "But we had no promises. No obligations to each other. It wasn't a relationship. It was two men leaning on each other from time to time."

"He understood you."

"Yes, he did. He had a dangerous job that he couldn't tell anyone about. So, yes. He understood me."

"But he disappeared and you thought he was dead." Harry paused and Severus shifted in his seat. "For all these years you thought he was dead."

Severus stood up and walked slowly to the drink cabinet, and set his glass down. "People disappear, Harry. It is a fact of life. It's best to accept that."

Harry came up behind him and put his hand one his bondmate's shoulder. "You're not talking about Julian anymore," he said, his brow furrowed. "What are you thinking about? Why have you blocked me out?"

Severus moved as though he were going to grab his glass, but decided instead to close the drink cabinet. He remained facing it, his back to Harry.

"I promised you I wouldn't speak of it," he said.

Harry swallowed. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, and Severus laughed—a heartless, disbelieving sound.

"But you do, Harry. And you can. With your Unspeakable status with the Ministry, you could disappear forever tomorrow and I would never know…" He turned around. "I would never even be able to say goodbye."

Harry put his hand to his forehead, massaging a headache. He turned and walked away. "It's none of your business," he said crossly; his words had an automatic quality to them.

Severus slumped backward, leaning against the cabinet. "Of course it's not," he said wearily. "I'm only your bondmate. We have no promises. No obligations to each other…. Go back to your boyfriend, Harry. And treat him like he matters to you for a change."

Harry turned back to look at him, his headache already giving way. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Severus shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Nothing, Harry. It means nothing."

Harry left, angry and confused. He stopped by Draco's room, but the blonde was nowhere to be found. Realizing he had probably gone to the dance, and not wanting to bother with a crowd at the moment, Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower, where he collapsed into bed and slept.

XIXIX

Ron shifted his stance inside the circle, looking around into the blackness of the Forbidden Forest. All sound deadened around him and the darkness became unsettlingly complete. Only a vague piece of his consciousness was aware of the change occurring, but it was enough. He dared not luminate his wand. He'd taken all the necessary precautions, but light on a night such as this would do no one any good, and least of all himself.

The Thestral beside him began to step nervously, its white eyes wide-opened and alarmed. Ron took note of that as well. He also took note when the Thestral very suddenly became still and calm. Its eyes began to droop, and then it was asleep.

_A whisper, a song, a thought, an idea, a pull…_ Ron fought not to take a step forward, and remained standing strong. He smiled.

"You're early."

A voice, charming and seductive and beautiful—inside his head or somewhere in the Forest—it was impossible to tell—lilted, "Not early enough, it would seem."

"I have had this circle in place since before sunset," Ron responded. "I'm no fool."

"No?" mused the voice, soft and sweet. Was it male or female? Did it matter? It was achingly beautiful, wrapping around Ron like water, but he wasn't quite drowning.

Again, he resisted the urge to step out of the circle. Again, he succeeded.

"I would think you are quite the fool to be out on a night such as tonight. The Forest is _alive_ tonight. The dead _rise_ tonight. And the undead… well, tonight we rule supreme."

"How did you know where to find me?" Ron blurted, uncomfortable with the melodious sound of the beautiful and deadly voice.

"You gave me an address," the voice replied, smooth as silk, and Ron breathed in. One ought to be able to taste a voice that rich. His mouth was dry suddenly.

"Not the address you used. I made no mention of Hogwarts at all. How did you find me?"

A sigh, or a breeze—as serene as it was condescending—settled in the surrounding air.

"Why do you lie?" the voice questioned. "Why say you are one place, when you are really another?"

"How did you know where to send the crow?" Ron had the sudden and distinct feeling of being circled. He turned his head, peering into the thick night, but still could see nothing.

"We are here for exchange, correct?"

Ron nodded tentatively.

"Then why do you ask questions with no intention of answering mine?"

Ron nodded again. "Exchange then. How did you find me?"

"The owl you sent told me her point of departure was not Hogsmeade, but Hogwarts. I could see no reason for you to go to the additional trouble of traveling to Hogsmeade when I could send the letter directly to your breakfast table with the other children." There was a pause during which Ron fought not to scowl. "And you? Why do you lie?"

Ron swallowed. "I do not wish to be associated with children."

"Then it is settled," notified the voice. "I shall not consider you to be a child. And I shall send all future correspondences to Hogwarts—"

"No!" shot Ron. "Wait—I mean, no. Don't do that."

"Why?"

So innocent, so falsely innocent. Ron wasn't fooled for a second.

"Unless," it began slowly, "But no, you wouldn't have _lied_ to me during your part of our exchange? We had a deal."

"No," he stated firmly. "I did not lie. But that was not the whole truth. No one can…"

He swallowed. He was lying to everyone in his life _except_ this creature.

"No one can know that we have contact with each other."

Ron had told them all that he was only writing to magical creature experts.

"They wouldn't understand."

Hermione would kill him.

"How did you affect my Thestral?" asked Ron, changing the subject. "How did your magic penetrate the circle?"

"Foolish mortal," spat the voice, and for just a moment, Ron sensed movement around him. For just a moment, he was afraid. "Humans cannot control the power of one creature over another. The hierarchy you create with yourselves on top is as naïve as it is false."

"Says the hunted dark creature to the free wizard," responded Ron ironically.

"You are not so free," said the voice, calm and beautiful once again. "Speak against those who lead you, and then come and acquaint me with your freedom. You are bound, human. Perhaps more so by your intangible chains. I suspect you will come to understand this one day. I suspect your sister will come to understand this soon."

A hot, protective anger shot through Ron. "What do you know of my sister?"

The voice was amused. The darkness itself seemed to be amused as well. "We do keep up with the affairs of humans, young Weasley. Your sister is a threat to those in power, and therefore, she is in danger. Very likely the reason she was attacked today."

Ron felt cold wash over him. He wanted to leave the safety of the circle. He wanted to run back to Hogwarts and check on his sister. Another part of him pointed out that this story of attack was likely a ploy to get him to take just a few steps….

"You lie," he intoned flatly.

"Suit yourself. It is of no consequence to me."

Ron waged a brief, but fierce, inner battle. If Ginny _had_ been attacked, Harry would have been there. Half the school would have been there. Hell, more than half. And anyway, there was nothing he could do now, out here in the Forbidden Forest on the most dangerous night of the year. He would just have to wait.

The darkness was unsettling to him, as was the deadened sound. His own breathing, the Thestral's light snores, and the disembodied voice… that was all he could hear. He shifted his stance, but couldn't even hear the earth move underneath his feet. The circle was clearly not blocking out all magics, but his mind was still his own. It was enough.

"Let me see you," said Ron.

"And what do you want me to look like? I can be anything, or any_one_, you want."

"Let me see your normal form." Ron was being toyed with and he knew it. He had expected it. But he still didn't like it.

There was a shift in the blackness, and a mist pulled together from nothingness. Slowly, maddeningly slowly, the mist began to take shape. After far too long, Ron found himself looking at a humanoid figure several inches taller than himself. Piercing black eyes, pale white skin, elegant features, chin-length black hair, and indeterminate gender stood facing him. It was awe-inspiring in its beauty. Ron's heart began to thud in his chest.

A slow smile spread on perfect thin lips, acknowledging Ron's approval. And then, there they were—two sharp fangs, slightly curved, glinting impossibly since there was still no light. Ron's senses rebelled against the muddle that the vampire was creating in his mind. How could he see the creature at all if there was no light? How could it be so oppressively dark this close to the full moon, even in the forest? Why couldn't he hear anything?

Ron shook his head. He had taken a step forward in his moment of confusion. His best bet now was just to accept the sensory paradoxes. He would get lost in the magic if he tried to reason it out. He would lose control completely.

"That's better," said Ron coolly, as though he were not struggling to maintain himself. "I prefer to be able to see what I am talking to."

"Oh?" asked the vampire. And oh god, its voice was even more beautiful now he could see its face.

"It's something my dad used to say," he explained. "Never talk to something if you can't see where it keeps its brains." He was babbling now. He forced himself to be quiet.

The vampire was quiet with him, looking him up and down, appraising him. "What exactly is it that you want, human?" The seductive look in its eyes promised worlds.

Ron swallowed. "I want information. I want to understand power and control, and death, in a way that wizards are unable."

The vampire smiled and tilted its head. "What makes you think that I have this information to give to you?"

"Because you're undead. Because you were able to control my Thestral. Because you walk the path between death and life, and draw your own magic from both."

"And why would I give you this information?"

"Because, despite what you want to believe, I am in a better position than you to ease relations between wizards and vampires."

"You are nothing," replied the vampire kindly, and Ron wanted to curl into that voice and lose himself. "You are young. You have no power."

"But with knowledge comes power. The information you give me, I could use to promote a better understanding about the creatures that walk the path between. We could change the world for you," he said.

The vampire began a slow walk around the perimeter of the circle, _just_ skirting the protections Ron had put into place.

"You have high ideals," it said. Ron turned so he could keep an eye on it. It seemed pleased. "And so intent, are you, to save us poor creatures?"

"This isn't pity," said Ron. "This is about respect. I know what death feels like. I know why humans are afraid of it. I want to change the way people view death, for our own sakes as well as yours."

The vampire nodded. "I will give you what you want," it said. Then it smiled, melting Ron's heart. "Shall we always meet here?"

Ron shook his head. "Do you know the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade?"

"I do," said the vampire, "But it has a reputation for attracting werewolves."

"I can guarantee your safety there," said Ron, "As well as privacy."

"Then we shall meet again. One lunar cycle from tonight."

The vampire was gone, and the oppressive blackness lifted. Ron was aware that he could again hear sounds in the forest surrounding, but they were muffled by the sound of his own heavy breathing, and by the thudding of his heart.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: I realized when I began writing this story that it would be bigger in scope than ABL. I just didn't realize how much bigger. But like I said before, I will finish this story. And I'll do my best to update in a much more timely manner.

I realized last week that I've had seven big events occur in my life during the past three months, including two major illness, a trip out of the country, a death in the family, a new job, a change in community (four new people living in my house), and a brother being deployed to Iraq. I've been a little nutsy and spend more time than I'd care to admit pretending to hold everything together.

Writing is one of my major sources of sanity. It helps me keep my thoughts organized, and also releases the words and ideas and stories and characters that traipse through my head endlessly. So it feels really good to finally be able to get this chapter to you, because look, I've done something, and I got to relax awhile while doing it.

Anyway, thanks for sticking with me this long. And thank you again to all of my reviewers. Cross your fingers for good times ahead.

peace,

kati


	9. Lies, Spies, and Diversions

X

XIX

XIXIX "Lies, Spies, and Diversions" XIXIX

_Breakfast at Hogwarts erupted in mild excitement yesterday morning,_ writes Daily Prophet correspondent Will Raspberry,_ when a piece of lightly cursed mail got through the apparently lax security system that protects our precious school children. While no one was permanently damaged, the Daily Prophet is saddened to report that three school children did spend several hours in the infirmary, including the controversial SWAN founders, Ginny Weasley and Neil Longbeetle._

_Weasley, who until recently was much praised for her role in the Second War of You-Know-Who, is said to have fainted after opening a letter that turned out not only to be hexed, but also to be a Howler. Daily Prophet sources report that the Great Hall echoed with the Howler's ghastly message, **"SWAN is in league with the Death Eaters!" **But of course, school officials deny that charge, claiming that it is "inaccurate." Ms. Weasley herself was unavailable for comment._

_One does have to wonder, however, why SWAN continues to send unaccounted for supplies to various wizarding governments that are known to support the Death Eaters. One also has to wonder why, that being the case, Hogwarts has not already stepped up security for Ms. Weasley. Surely attacks from rightfully concerned citizens could not be a surprise…._

Severus did not finish reading the article, but promptly set fire to his newspaper once again. Excepting a few first years, the students barely flinched. This was getting to be a daily occurrence during breakfast in the Great Hall.

XIXIX

Ginny was the last of the girls in her room to wake. Her eyes opened reluctantly, and only because the loudening whine of her alarm had finally reached shrieking proportions; the pillow she clutched to her head could no longer shield her from the call to rise and face the day.

She was still dead tired. The Draught of Living Death would be with her for another day or two still, dragging her energy down so that all she wanted to do was sleep. However, she was now awake enough, albeit reluctantly, to realize that more sleep would not counter the residual effects of the potion. And Ginny would be damned if she was going to let some asshole poison her and keep her from enjoying her day off.

It was Sunday. Her homework for the weekend was already mostly done. The dance was over. She had no pressing matters with SWAN. This looked to be a good day for relaxing. Shame that the weather had already turned cold, or she might even consider a swim in the lake.

She was sluggish getting ready for the day, but breakfast was far from over when she finally made her way down the steps of the girls' dormitory. Sprawled out in a chair at the bottom of the steps was her redheaded brother. His left arm dangled to the floor, with his head drooping over the side of the chair after it. His right hand was resting on his chest, which rose and fell in even measure.

"Ron."

…

"Ron."

…

"_RON!_"

Ron slammed his right arm down against the armrest and his head shot up in one moment of alarm that bordered on terror. "Wha--? Ginny!" He moved to jump up, but his foot tangled in the leg of his seat and he fell forward into his sister.

Ginny didn't fall under his weight, but it was a near thing. Instead, she caught him and swerved around with a firm grip on his arm. He stumbled around and landed on the floor, although he didn't hit as hard as he would have had Ginny not latched onto him.

"Are you okay?" he asked from the floor, looking up worriedly. He struggled up from the floor, this time managing to maintain his balance. "I heard that you'd been attacked. Is it true? Are you all right?"

"I'm okay, Ron," she said. "Just a little tired. It's fine."

"What happened?"

"Bad mail," Ginny quipped. "Infused with Living Death. Snape brewed up an antidote. We're all fine."

"Who all? Who else? What happened?"

"Hermione and Neville both got a whiff too. And Harry got knocked out through our bond, but he was asleep in Malfoy's room at the time."

"Bloody hell," breathed Ron. "I had no idea, Ginny. I swear. I would've been here—"

Ginny held up her hand. "I know, bro. But you'd better talk to Hermione. She's getting to the point that she's not gonna put up with this stuff anymore."

"Ginny—"

"I know, I know. I'm just saying. The two of you have been through a lot together, and she's willing to overlook a lot. But you'd damn well better make it up to her for not being around yesterday when she needed you."

Ron looked down at his feet in defeat. "You think she's down at breakfast yet?" he asked.

Ginny glanced around pointedly. "Ron, _everyone_ is down at breakfast already."

Ron turned his head to take in the empty common room and smacked his head. "Bloody hell," he said again. "What time is it? I figured I'd wake up when people started coming down, and I'd send one of the girls up to check on you."

"Well, I think you slept through the rush," Ginny answered. Then she appraised the dark circles around his eyes, his unkempt clothes, and messy hair. "Did you get any sleep?"

Ron shrugged and yawned again, having been reminded how tired he was. "A bit," he said. "Couple hours, maybe."

"Well, we can stop by Hermione's rooms on the way down to make sure she's not still sleeping. I'm still exhausted from yesterday. I'm sure she is too."

Hermione wasn't in her room, so they headed straight to the Great Hall. Hermione, Neville, and Harry were already eating, seated with Lavender and Parvati. They all looked up when the door opened. Just as quickly, Hermione looked away. Ron took off toward her at a sprint.

He flung his arms around her in a strangling bear hug. "Thank Merlin you're okay," he panted. "Hermione, I didn't know. I swear to god I didn't know. Holy hell, I could never have forgiven myself if…." He couldn't finish his sentence, thinking of the terrible possibilities.

He didn't let her go for a long time.

XIXIX

"So then, where were you?" asked Hermione that afternoon. She'd avoided the subject all day, and Ron had thought he might have been able to get off without arguing or lying.

But no such luck. He sighed.

"It was Halloween," he said, and it almost sounded like that was his explanation, but then he continued. "That letter I got in the morning was letting me know that, um, some supplies came in that I had wanted to use for an experiment."

"What supplies?" asked Ginny. "And where?"

Ron made a face and looked Hermione hard in the eye. "I need to clarify that I'm talking to Hermione my girlfriend, and not Hermione the Head Girl," he said. Hermione looked down at him disapprovingly.

"I _probably_ won't give you a detention," she conceded. Ron figured that was probably the best he would get.

"It was one drop of water from the River Stix."

Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all gasped. Not only was water from the River Stix extraordinarily expensive, it was also nearly impossible for experts to get, much less the average student.

And actually, Ron _had_ had a drop of water from the River Stix.

"One of Dr. Monroe's assistants sent it to me in order to conduct an experiment on Halloween."

She sent it to Ron weeks ago. But Ron didn't mention that.

Hermione's eyebrows shot together as she went into full academic mode. "I thought Dr. Monroe wasn't interested in your theories. So why did he send you water from the River Stix? And what did you use it for? What was your experiment? And did it work?" She leaned forward expectantly. So did Ginny and Harry.

Ron rubbed his forehead and yawned. "Dr. Monroe himself didn't send me anything. And neither did the one assistant that blew me off before. It was someone else on his research team—this lady named Angela Diamond who studied Egyptian death myths in Cairo for six years. She's been particularly interested in the role of magical creatures, which is how she came to work with Dr. Monroe. She agreed to allocate one drop from her store so that I could complete this experiment with a Thestral. I figured it had a better chance of working on Halloween, since it's such a magically charged night."

Which was all true—in a way. He had done an experiment, and he had been with a Thestral. That the most important part of his evening had not been the experimental circle he'd created, but his meeting with his new vampire consultant who was actually the one who sent him the letter yesterday morning, was not important to this conversation.

"What experiment?" clarified Hermione.

Ron reddened, feeling like a trapped animal. "It's, uhh… It's kind of hard to explain."

Hermione's face set. "Try me."

Ron sighed. "Well, basically," he said, speaking slowly to buy himself time while he thought up something plausible and brilliant that would still basically be the truth, "It's kind of like casting a protective circle, except it's supposed to allow wizards to feel, and therefore more accurately understand, the magic of various creatures."

"And did it work?" she inquired.

"Well, kind of," he answered truthfully. It _had_ protected him from the magic of the vampire by giving him a sort of 'key' to it, but he was no closer to understanding how exactly the vampire's magic worked. "Mostly," he said apologetically, "I don't want to talk much with you guys because I don't want to get my theories muddled in my head with too much speculation. I mean, Angela Diamond has studied this sort of thing, and she thinks there's something _to_ what I'm trying to do. I just don't want to mess it up."

Hermione nodded grudgingly.

XIXIX

Meanwhile, Draco was making his way down to the old Potions Lab for his meeting with the Tricksters. He was still a bit nervous at their insistence for this meeting. Until now their business meetings had been fairly relaxed—extraordinarily secretive and anally accurate financially, sure, but relaxed nonetheless.

He worried that they were going to pull out of their arrangement. Or demand more money. Or tell him the products were defective after all. Or tell him they were close to being found out and it would all lead back to Draco and he, the Head Boy, would be expelled for trafficking illicit items.

As he neared the mahogany door, he took a deep breath and let his 'Malfoyness' take over.

He pushed, and the door slid open with satisfying force so that he would walk through with his hands at his sides. The two fifth years looked up. He smirked down at them.

"How goes the studying, boys?"

"Excellent as always, Draco," said Coyote with a smile. "Come, have a seat."

Draco slid the pack off his back onto the table they'd cleared for their homework, and withdrew several Arithmancy and Potions textbooks. Loky and Coyote had already littered the table with parchments filled with notes and scratches.

The key to any good cover-up was to manage the details. If someone were to walk in on the three young men, they'd see three young men studying, and would not bother to remember any snips of overheard conversation. It would only seem as though they'd gotten off topic. However, if they seemed as though they had met to discuss the overheard snippet, those words would take on a new and suspicious meaning. They would be thought about. It could be their downfall.

Regardless, Loky cast a mild charm that would muddle their words to passersby. The three Slytherins picked up quills, and began their conversation, periodically leaning over books and handing across bits of parchment with scribbled calculations.

Details mattered.

"Is there a problem with the Invisibracelets?" asked Draco.

"No more than what we told you last night," replied Loky. "They have a limited life span. The Weasleys should know that if they don't already."

"I'll make sure they do."

"Good," said Loky. "Is there anything new from P-cubed?" Kyle shot him a look that clearly told Draco that Loky had opted not to say something he was expected to.

He nodded slowly, looking between the two. "There will be soon, at any rate. Foam bombs. One bomb could fill an entire hallway floor to ceiling, about ten feet deep. They designed them especially with Hogwarts in mind."

The Tricksters both leaned forward, interested despite whatever their hidden agenda.

"How tough is the foam?" asked Kyle, always interested in the specifics.

"Penetrable, easily. But completely opaque. Clean-up is not impossible, but it is messy. This isn't a hard-core diversion item, but definitely fun."

"What color is the foam? White?"

Draco smiled at the inquisitive Coyote. "Oh no, no," he said. "They come in a wide variety of colors, scents, and flavors. Standard is white marshmallow, but the others range from nice things like Lilac Bouquet and Cinnamon Fluff, to the less desirable Vomit Quagmire and, my personal favorite, Troll Boogers. It actually does smell like trolls."

"The scents and flavors cost more, I imagine," said Loky.

"Of course," Draco agreed, "But I daresay this nominal fee is worth the extra satisfaction. So," he continued, businesslike, "What do you think? Marketable or no?"

They exchanged glances, and nodded. "Marketable," they said together, no doubt already forming a list of potential customers.

"Good. They why don't the two of you tell me why you've really asked me to come here today."

Loky swallowed, but Kyle didn't miss a beat. "We'd like to be introduced, formally, to the Weasleys."

'Ah,' thought Draco, 'They want to cut me out as the middle man.'

"We're not trying to cut you out," Coyote hastened. "It's just that you'll be graduating in a matter of months. If Lokstavian and I are going to continue this enterprise after you leave Hogwarts, we're going to need to start building a relationship with the Weasleys now."

Draco considered this, while eyeing the Tricksters. Loky stared determinedly at his forehead, but Coyote met his gaze head-on. He wasn't afraid of Draco, even when he was in his full Malfoy businessman mode. And while it perhaps made intimidation a bit more challenging, Draco couldn't help but like that about the younger Slytherin.

He nodded with his eyes only. "I'll set up a meeting during winter break. I'm supposed to be staying with Harry since Professor Snape will be at a Potions Conference in Italy, but I can't imagine it'll be difficult to convince him to take a trip to see more Weasleys."

"Speaking of Weasleys," said Loky with a sly smile, which caused Coyote to frown just noticeably, "Your boyfriend's twin sure seems to fancy you. Tell me, do twins really share everything?"

"Shut up, Lokstavian," muttered Kyle under his breath.

Draco seemed unfazed. "Actually, no, they don't. And she doesn't fancy me. She fancies you."

Loky's eyes widened, and Kyle looked up. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, Kyle," said Draco, meeting his eyes. "She told me last night."

Coyote let his lids fall just slightly when he smiled, holding Draco's gaze with a smoldering look. "Really," he said.

"But how did she even notice me?" asked Lokstavian. He seemed affronted that he had failed to remain in the background of all situations sufficiently enough to keep someone from finding him attractive.

Draco broke his shared stare with Coyote, a bit disconcerted, and said, "Sorry, Lokstavian, but you're a good-looking guy. Someone was bound to notice sooner or later."

He pushed himself up from the table and began loading his books into his pack. He did not look at Kyle again, but was fairly certain that what he missed was a look of disappointment.

XIXIX

Several weeks later, Saturday dawned cold and wet. The air seemed to be spiked with a nervous, frenetic energy, carried in the winds and tearing through the students like icicle knives. Excitement was high, and loud, and pervasive. Looking around at the students in the Great Hall, chattering away in anticipation of a big game, really made Draco want to throw up.

He was nervous. He was so nervous, and Draco Malfoy was _never_ nervous before a game. He didn't know what to do about it. But he did realize that he was incapable of showing the turmoil within. He'd been too well conditioned to never show weakness. He'd made his way thus far through the morning on autopilot—displaying the calm, cool confidence of the star player on a Slytherin team that was bound to win.

Except that they probably wouldn't win. Slytherin had not won against Gryffindor yet since Harry and Draco had been Seekers. And the fact that half of Gryffindor's team were new players made little difference since only Draco and Crabbe were Slytherin veterans.

The fact was that this year, the Houses were all smaller due to the high casualties of the Final Battle at Hogwarts last year. Quidditch went on despite the loss of so many players, because it was necessary that life move on. But all of the teams had green players, people who never would have made the teams had there been a surplus of talented students. The games were less exciting with poorer players—more mistakes, less goals, more injuries, less show.

But the students still turned out in droves. Quidditch was Quidditch. Some saw the games as diversions. Some saw them as tributes to those who'd played before. Some saw them as proof that the war had not destroyed everything. There was a lot of high philosophizing going on when it came to Quidditch this year. There was also a specific interest in this particular game.

Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

The two great veteran Seekers, battling once again.

Draco Malfoy versus Harry Potter.

And just to make it a little sweeter, everyone knew they were dating. And what's more, everyone seemed to know they'd been fighting lately.

Draco supposed he shouldn't be surprised at that. When they'd first come out together and revealed their relationship this past Spring, they'd practically been joined at the hip. And everyone was only too happy to point out how cute and lovey-dovey they were. After the Final Battle, and Harry's coma, and even with Draco's indiscretions, the apparent closeness and intimacy of their relationship was still highly talked about. This year they'd come back to school with everything seeming fine until the first Hogsmeade weekend, at which point Draco began spending a lot of time alone or with friends, with Harry nowhere to be found. They rarely argued in public, but gossip and speculation still made it out to be far worse than it actually was.

'Because it's really not that bad,' thought Draco, carefully not looking across the Great Hall to the Gryffindor team. 'We're just dealing with things right now.'

The gossip got to him nonetheless, and so did the speculation about what would happen between them depending on who won.

'Nothing will happen,' Draco assured himself. 'We're far stronger than the outcome of a Quidditch match.'

The Slytherin team was finally all down at breakfast. Draco, this year's captain, quietly but forcefully drilled the others on maneuvers while the Slytherins around them carefully kept noise and energy levels high enough that no one could possibly overhear them.

They _were_ a decent team. But Harry was a superior Seeker, Weasley a better Keeper than was originally apparent two years ago, and Ginny was one hell of a Chaser. Draco had a few tricks up his sleeve, but realistically, they didn't have much of a chance to win this game.

"Remember your formations, keep your wits about you, and don't let those Gryffindor oafs intimidate you," Draco instructed. "They're not all veteran players, and the newer ones will lack the confidence we Slytherins have. Exploit that. Watch out for Ginny Weasley. She's crafty, so keep the Quaffle away from her if you can. Weasel is a fair Keeper, but Delta Formation will distract him, and he won't figure out the flying patterns this game. It'll seem too chaotic to him, too un-Slytherin. He won't expect it."

"Yeah, but what about Potter?" asked Darla Rothschild, a second year Chaser who was as fast and intelligent as she was small and unassuming-looking.

Draco smirked a pretension he did not currently feel. "Leave him to me."

XIXIX

The teams lined up on the field and the crowd was cheering all around them. Draco tried not to think about playing against his friends, playing against his boyfriend, playing with green teams that served as replacements for dead friends and rivals. He tried not to think about what would happen after the game, no matter what the outcome. And he tried not to consider throwing the game so that he could play the graceful loser without having to be upset that he'd actually lost because he wasn't as good as the people that stood before him.

"Captains, shake hands," directed Madam Hooch.

Draco and Harry both stepped forward, their faces blank as they tried to keep the game from becoming personal. They clutched each other's hands tightly, formally.

Then Draco let a smirk slip past his mask of calm. 'What the hell?' he thought. In one quick movement, he stepped forward and pressed his lips against Harry's. In the next moment, he'd stepped back, grinning. Harry had been too surprised to respond. The crowd went wild.

"Love you, Pookie," Draco crooned. Harry's eyes widened and his cheeks flared red. Both teams began to laugh. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"You too, Stud-Muffin," he sang.

Draco nodded his head rather than blushing in return. Wolf whistles and catcalls rained down on them, and the nervous spell that had bound Draco all morning was successfully broken.

"That'll be enough of that!" snapped Madam Hooch, apparently used to stopping threats between Captains, and not sure she should allow sickeningly sweet declarations of love either.

"Mount your brooms, please." The whistle blew, the Quaffle was up, and the teams were off.

Draco shot up in the air like a bullet, his worries left behind. He swooped and swerved, keeping an eye out for the Snitch, but also on his team. Darla had retrieved the Quaffle first, and had sped down the pitch in a series of loops and turns, making daredevil and insane-looking passes to illogical places, but Edmond Clenease and Jefferson Harper were always there to pick up and continue on the chaotic course toward Ron Weasley.

Fifteen seconds into the game, Slytherin had already scored, leaving the crowds in the stands cheering and scratching their heads in turn.

Harry dove past Draco in his search for the Snitch, but the Snitch refused to appear just yet. The Slytherin Chasers continued to fly loops and spirals around the Gryffindor team, but the strategy only held strong on the offensive. Once Gryffindor had possession, they were nearly helpless to keep Ginny from making her way down to score. The Beaters were able to stop her a couple of times, but the Keeper blocked only about half of the shots taken against him.

The result was that the teams were more evenly matched than Draco had thought possible. He focused more narrowly on his search for the Snitch, knowing that they had a chance to win after all, but it would still come down to him being faster than Harry.

Thirty-seven minutes into the game, Slytherin was down forty points, and his team was showing signs of fatigue. The Gryffindors were still unsuccessful in anticipating the direction of flight and passes from the Slytherins, but they were still stronger on offense, and Ginny had been lucky or skilled enough to be able to intercept the Quaffle during several frenzied processions toward the goal. Draco had to find the Snitch soon, or the game would be lost.

He redoubled his efforts toward his search. Harry apparently noticed, because his search seemed to take on extra speed only a moment later. As though it realized the importance of an imminent appearance, the Snitch gleamed suddenly near the base of the Ravenclaw stands, and then shot off toward Hufflepuff's cheering section. Harry was closer, but the Snitch was coming almost directly toward Draco.

Without pause, the two Seekers were off, and a horrendous roar of enthusiasm sprung from the crowd. Draco's eyes were on the Snitch and the Snitch only. He didn't see how it happened, but suddenly, with a deafening sound of explosion, the Quidditch stadium began to fill with multicolored foam. Instantly, a cornucopia of smells rose to assault the noses of everyone in the stands. Just as instantly, the Snitch made a turn and darted straight into the foam which had now risen thirty feet high and covered the Quidditch pitch end to end.

A second later, Draco and Harry both dove into the muck, and were lost from view from the stands. The students were shrieking with hysteric joy. This was turning out to be quite an exciting match.

Unnoticed by the deliriously happy students, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape all shot to their feet with matching looks of alarm on their faces. Severus closed his eyes tight, focusing on his awareness of Harry, nervous that he couldn't see him, and readying himself for anything.

The foam swirled with the movements of the Seekers inside. Above the foam, Darla flew vertical circles around Ron Weasley, just out of his reach, with the Quaffle in hand, until an exact moment when he was off balance just enough that they both realized she had a shot open to his left. He dove for it and at the same moment she passed to Edmond, who passed to Jefferson on Ron's right. As Ron turned to block the impending shot, Jefferson spiraled and passed back to Darla, who had managed to get behind Ron.

She scored unopposed.

A huge ball of fluff burst forth from the foam, and the crowd screamed as one body. Little bits of foam (mixed now into a greenish-brown color) fell as the Seeker flew, but he was covered completely and was unrecognizable. His hand was outstretched in a fist; tiny wings fluttered, shaking off excess foam. His other hand shook a coating of the offending mess from itself, and then began to wipe at his face.

A huge grin surrounded by filthy pale skin split from the midst of the hovering blob. A moment later, the Slytherin team had crashed into Draco, hugging him and screaming with hysteric laughter. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy. He'd won. He'd really won. They'd pulled if off, and he'd won.

His team hoisted him up and took off on a victory lap. Hooch blew her whistle to announce the end of the game. The Gryffindor team minus one gathered, disappointed, but made their way to the Slytherin team to shake hands and congratulate them on a good game.

When Draco noticed that Harry was not among them, his face fell. He looked to Ginny, who shook her head and tried to smile.

"He's just pissed, Draco. He'll get over it. But congratulations. You played a truly spectacular game." She shook his hand and flew off toward the Gryffindor locker room, taking the back entrance in, as the field entrance was blocked by a wall of foam.

The Slytherins were still cheering. The winning team made another victory lap, before themselves exiting, preparing for one riotous party.

XIXIX

Harry really was pissed off. He hadn't expected to lose, and couldn't help but suspect foul play from his boyfriend. That foam had to have been a Slytherin plot. It had to have been.

Severus felt all of this radiating from Harry, and after congratulating his team he made a beeline toward the source of this displeasure. Harry was currently walking back toward the castle alone. He knew Severus was coming for him, and Severus noted through their bond, he didn't mind. But before the Potions Master was able to get within visual range of his bondmate, Harry blocked him off suddenly and completely.

Severus didn't see him or feel him again that weekend.

XIXIX

"The wards have not been breached," said Dumbledore seriously. "Rather, the activity that I have detected seems as though unknown person or persons were somehow circumventing them, leaving them completely intact."

McGonagall bristled in her seat. "Are you saying that this intruder has a 'key' that allows them to bypass the wards completely?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

The faculty began murmuring uneasily. News that outsiders had been entering Hogwarts grounds in such a stealthy way was unsettling. The war may be over, but the sneakiness inherent felt threatening, regardless that no threats had been made or insinuated.

"How long, Albus?" asked Severus quietly.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I have been noting anomalies in the structure of the wards since this summer. But I do not believe the occurrences of trespassing extend back as far as that. I have not been able to specifically observe movement within the wards until today, just before the Quidditch match."

"But surely today is not the first time if these 'anomalies' have been happening for so many months," clarified Sprout. Dumbledore inclined his head.

"By _why_ is someone sneaking onto Hogwarts grounds," stated Flitwick, as though it were the answer and not the question. "Is this a stakeout? Are we under attack? Is it these foreign Death Eaters we keep reading about in the Prophet?"

"Is it the Ministry?"

All eyes turned to Severus, but no one made to answer. They all knew, given the current relationship between Fudge and Dumbledore, that the Ministry was just as likely to spy on Hogwarts as anyone else. With the elections coming up on New Year's Eve, Fudge needed all the power and support he could get. If he could somehow get a monitor into Hogwarts, no one doubted that he would.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As it is unclear _who_ it is, and it is unclear _what_ their intentions are, I suggest we remain on the alert. Report any suspicious behaviors or activities immediately. I will keep you all informed as the situation develops."

The staff meeting adjourned and the witches and wizards left without further ado, discussing this latest information. Severus made his way to Dumbledore before making his own exit.

"Harry is gone again," he said without preamble, and Dumbledore sighed. "Is this something we can or should prevent from further occurrence with threats of academic penalty?"

"No," replied the headmaster. "Harry is a special case as we are all well aware—himself included. I believe that so long as his disappearances do not interfere with his studies, there is nothing we can or should do about it."

"And what about this spy?"

"You may warn him, but Harry Potter is more than capable of taking care of himself."

XIXIX

When Harry did return, he seemed unconcerned with the outcome of the Quidditch match. He was once again close-lipped and irritable about where he'd been, shunning questions and snapping at those who asked them. But he seemed not to care that Gryffindor had lost; he seemed to have something more on his mind.

Monday afternoon, following classes, he'd curled up with Draco and whispered simply, "Don't ever let me go."

Harry was mostly silent during the final weeks of the fall term. He was oftentimes in a bad mood, and had a lot of headaches. The night before winter break, Draco asked him about the almost constant pain he seemed to be in, but Harry waved off his concerns, saying he was 'trying to think.'

But then he looked to Draco seriously, and repeated himself. "I'm trying to think," he said. A moment later he clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

Draco went to him, unsure of what to do. "Do you need something?" he asked lamely.

Harry shook his head. "I want you to know that I'm glad you're coming with me to Remus' place," he said. "I hardly ever get to see him anymore." He dropped his hands back to his sides as he spoke. His eyes cleared as the pain receded. "I miss him at Durmstang. He never comes to Hogwarts to visit like he used to. I can't wait to see him."

Draco remembered that the next morning when everyone was boarding the Hogwarts Express, and Harry was nowhere to be found. He waited on the platform at Hogsmeade until the train began to move, searching faces and peering into the distance toward Hogwarts, but Harry never showed. Draco grudgingly climbed aboard the already moving train, and then shoved his way through the cars until he found the compartment occupied by his Gryffindor friends.

"Ginny," he said, his voice strained, "Tell me he's running late. Tell me he didn't invite me to his house and then disappear."

Ginny was silent. She glanced out the window.

"Bugger it, no!" Draco snapped. He looked down and his hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists and punched the door to the compartment. Its glass window shattered into the hallway.

Hermione screamed, startled, and Ron shot to his feet in front of her.

"Goddamn it, Malfoy, calm the fuck down!"

Draco was breathing heavily. He ran his hands through his hair, thinking about the conversation he'd had so recently with Harry. Before he could stop to think about it, he was telling them about it. "He was acting strangely, sure, but he seemed so sincere. Why would he say all that if he'd been planning on taking off?"

Ron stood there staring at him, lacking answers. Hermione peered around from behind him, studying Draco intently as though she were memorizing his words for later use. Neville shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the conflict.

Finally, Ginny stood as well and pushed gently past her brother. She pulled out her wand and said steadily, "_Reparo._" The shattered window flew back together and sealed itself seamlessly. Ginny reached out and took Draco's left hand in hers.

"Come on," she said. "There's no use to being upset now. We'll figure something out when he gets back."

Draco shook his head. "I can't do this anymore, Ginny. I can't take this."

"I know."

Draco pulled away and slumped into the seat nearest the door. Ron returned to his place by Hermione, and Ginny to her place by Neville.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked of no one in particular.

Hermione shrugged. "Work it out with him or move on. What other options are there?"

Draco made a pained face. "Ultimately, yes," he said. "But what about now? Severus is in Italy, so I can't get into Snape Manor. I hardly know Lupin—am I supposed to go stay with him alone, without Harry? What am I gonna say to the man?"

The compartment was silent for a moment, until Hermione offered, "I'll talk to him. He won't have a problem with you staying anyway, but he's going to be pretty upset about Harry taking off again."

"And with good reason," added Ron angrily. "I can't believe him. I mean, leaving anyway, but especially after inviting someone to stay with him. It's not like Draco and Remus are exactly old chums. How are they going to live together for two weeks like that?"

"I'm telling you," said Hermione, "Remus won't mind if you still stay. You'll find something to do together."

Draco's lip curled distastefully. "Like what? Have tea and talk about where Harry might of gone?"

Hermione shrugged apologetically. "He does make great tea."

The blond fought not to smile at the obvious attempt to cheer him up. "No, he said, "I'll owl Severus as soon as we get to London. We'll figure out a way to get me back into Snape Manor. Or I'll just go back to Hogwarts."

"Forget it," said Ginny. "You'll come and stay with us." Draco made to protest, but Ginny spoke over him. "There's plenty of room. You know us better than you know Remus, and you're not going off to stay somewhere by yourself."

Ron agreed. "You were going to be at our place on Christmas anyway."

"And Mum would go nuts if we let you go back to Hogwarts."

"She'll be in London to pick us up," said Ron. "She won't let you back on the train anyway, so you might as well give in now."

Draco relented, feeling calmer about the prospects of his winter break without Harry. He understood that by backing him in this way, the Gryffindors surrounding him were showing that he was not just Harry's boyfriend to them, but their friend as well, in his own right. It was a powerful feeling to realize this, though muted by the extraordinary disappointment he felt at Harry's actions.

XIXIX

Hermione thought a lot about what Draco told them Harry had said. It was uncharacteristic of Harry in general to let so many people down. Before the Final Battle, he never would have made plans with loved ones and then taken off with no explanation. And he'd never before been so secretive. He would have told Ron and Hermione—and later Ginny and Severus and Draco—anything. He'd never been so quick to anger before either, at least, not to the extremes that his anger reached nowadays.

Harry was definitely not the Harry she'd always known.

But of course he wasn't. He'd changed a lot as a result of the war, and as a result of the mental magic he'd done over the past year. She supposed she should just be happy that he'd managed to survive the possessions he'd done. It wasn't common in the wizarding world that a person could absorb another lifetime's worth of memories and come out unscathed. But Harry had managed more than that, and he'd forged two major bonds, and he'd even possessed a Dementor…

Hermione paused her thoughts, wondering again how exactly that worked. She'd figured out enough to know that Harry had to have some sort of animalistic powers, because how else would he be able to do mental magic on magical creatures? But he seemed to be… ashamed of it… or something. He wouldn't talk to her about it when she'd broached the subject just after school ended last year. She'd have to ask Ginny about it sometime.

But back on subject, why had it become characteristic of Harry in recent months to disappear even when he had made plans with people, even when people were counting on him? What had changed in him to cause him to become completely unreliable to his loved ones?

She couldn't understand the change. It hadn't happened suddenly after the Final Battle. It hadn't happened gradually as they recovered from the war. It made no sense that he had changed so suddenly, _months_ after he'd experienced all these terrible things. At first she'd just written his disappearances off to his 'needing time', but it seemed to be deeper. It seemed like something else was going on that she and everyone else was missing.

When the Hogwarts Express pulled up to Platform 9 ¾, Hermione exited with the rest of her friends and kept an eye out for Remus Lupin. He wasn't hard to find, and in fact was waiting with Mrs. Weasley near the barrier. They made their greetings while Remus scanned the crowds of students over their shoulders. Hermione opened her mouth to answer before he had a chance to ask, but he beat her to it.

"Where's Harry?" he said.

Mrs. Weasley looked around too, suddenly worried. "Does he need help with his trunk?" she asked optimistically, but her face belied the realization she'd already made.

Ginny shook her head and turned away. Ron couldn't say anything either. Draco trailed in the background.

Hermione stepped up. "He wasn't on the train," she said quietly, allowing her disappointment to seep into her voice.

Remus laid his sad eyes upon her. "Was he late?" he asked.

"He wasn't there." Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.

Remus shoved his hands into his robes pockets and tilted his head back; his eyes were unfocused; he bit his lower lip. "Right," he said. "Of course."

"Mum, Draco's going to stay with us, if that's okay," said Ginny suddenly. "At least until Harry gets back," she added, with an apologetic glance toward Remus.

Mrs. Weasley looked up and over, lost in her thoughts. But then she caught herself and smiled. "Of course he can stay with us," she insisted, stepping over to put her arm around Draco. "You can stay in Fred and George's old room. We've got plenty of space, and plenty to eat. You and Ron and Ginny can visit with Charlie and Bill …"

While Mrs. Weasley fawned over Draco and her children, Remus turned and disappeared through the barrier, back into muggle London. Hermione noticed, and followed.

"Remus," she called, as she went through. Remus paused and turned.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said politely. "I shouldn't have left without saying goodbye. Did you need something?"

Hermione shook her head and approached him. "No, I just wanted to say—"

"_Hermione Jane Granger!_"

Hermione jumped in place and turned on her heel in alarm. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Stomping toward her was her father, who seemed to be in a right towering and overprotective temper. His fists were clenched and she was afraid for a moment that he was going to punch Remus. Or her, one.

Instead, he grabbed her arm and yanked her away, glaring hatefully at Remus. "Stay away from my daughter," he intoned dangerously. He spun around abruptly and began pulling her away. "We're leaving," he hissed.

"Dad, wait…"

"Now, Hermione!"

Hermione glance back over her shoulder helplessly, in time to see Ron and Ginny appear through the barrier with her trunk.

"Oy, 'Mione!" yelled Ron through the crowd, tactful and observant as always. Ginny punched him in the shoulder, but he continued to yell, "Wait up! You forgot your trunk!"

He began hurrying over to her, lugging her trunk behind him. Hermione's father, apparently realizing he would have to stop before reaching his car after all, turned back toward Ron and stood still, holding Hermione's arm firmly and tapping his foot impatiently.

Ron seemed to realize his mistake as he neared the Grangers, but there was nothing to do but carry through with his original intent. Thinking quickly, he decided he'd best go the 'super-polite boyfriend' route. He slowed down as he reached them.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said with a brief nod. "I'll carry this to your car for you."

"That will be quite all right, Ronald," steamed Cecil Granger. "I can manage it just fine."

"It's no problem," said Ron, gulping under Mr. Granger's glare. Hermione looked away.

"No, _thank you_," snapped the angry father with vicious kindness.

Ron handed over the trunk. "I'll see you later then, Hermione," he said uncertainly.

'Shut up, Ron,' thought Hermione, knowing that he wouldn't.

"You'll come to the Burrow for Christmas, right?" The Grangers had all been invited, although they had not yet replied.

'Shut up, please.'

"Everyone will be there," he continued, motioning behind him. "It'll be a great time."

Hermione's father glanced over Ron's shoulder and reddened further. If Hermione had thought things couldn't get worse, she was proved wrong when Mr. Granger caught sight of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny speaking with the very werewolf from whom he was trying to protect his daughter.

He puffed out his chest and stared Ron down, although Ron was the taller of the two. "I think not," he snapped. "And I expect better judgment from someone dating my daughter!"

Hermione's jaw dropped as Ron's mouth snapped closed. He turned beet red with indignation. And though he shook a bit, he thankfully stopped talking.

"Hermione, we are leaving this place," he ground out. "Now."

He stalked off toward the exit, and Hermione followed pitifully, turning around and mouthing an apology to her furious and confused boyfriend. She glanced once more toward Remus, but he wasn't looking her way.

They exited the station at a swift pace, Hermione two steps behind her father and feeling thoroughly miserable. This was not going to be a good holiday. They passed through the doors onto the streets of Muggle London, and someone shrieked.

"_There she is!_"

Hermione looked around to see what was happening, but her father continued storming toward his car. That is, until he heard someone squeal, "Hermione Granger! Over here!"

Hermione slumped visibly. "What now?" she groaned. And then she saw her—Rita Skeeter, journalist snoop extraordinaire, with a squat little cameraman Hermione had never seen before. Rita was waving frantically, and dodging through traffic as she crossed the street toward Hermione. Suddenly, Mr. Granger was back by her side, looming protectively.

Rita was wearing a muggle dress and high heels, covered by a winter cloak. But the fabric of her cloak swirled with colors that wouldn't quite stay put when looked at. That, along with her gaudy jewelry, hair, and make-up, clearly singled her out as a witch. Mr. Granger stiffened as she approached.

The photographer snapped a picture of the father-daughter duo and grinned. Mr. Granger bristled.

"Hermione, how are you?" gushed Rita, pulling out her Quick Quotes Quill from her purse. "I just have a few questions for you—"

"Rita, this really isn't the time," Hermione began.

"Nonsense," said Rita professionally. "It'll just take a moment…"

"Who are you, and what do you want with my daughter?" said Mr. Granger tersely.

Rita held out her hand with a huge fake smile. "Rita Skeeter, world-famous journalist, and former columnist for the Daily Prophet." She seized Mr. Granger's hand and shook it firmly. "I'm doing an article on your daughter."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened. "Wait—_former_ columnist? I thought they hired you back after you came out of… holiday," finished Hermione lamely, with a nervous glance at her father. He didn't know that she had trapped and blackmailed a journalist and full-grown witch.

Rita made a sour face. "They fired me again after I wrote an article supporting SWAN." Suddenly she brightened. "But you're still popular news—the wizarding world's most famous Seer, and a war hero. As well as impossible to interview. They'll hire me back with an article about you. How's Harry? Still angsty?"

Hermione gave her father a horrified look. His eyes were huge as he looked on the fast-talking journalist. Suddenly, he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said in a firm and determined manner. "I'm afraid you have confused my daughter with someone else. She's still in school," he explained.

Hermione shrunk further when Rita laughed.

"But of course she is! Which is why it is so amazing she was able to wade through all the visions and prophesies. But of course," she sighed wistfully, "You muggles never will understand how many thousands of lives she saved with her role in the war—let alone what she did for Harry Potter to prepare him for the battle at Hogwa—"

"We have to go, Rita!" screeched Hermione. She grabbed one handle from her trunk and began to pull her dad away.

"Wait just a minute, Hermione!" he thundered. "What is going on here!"

"Not here, Dad," she pleaded. "Please. Let's go home."

XIXIX

Three days.

Three days since she'd told her parents the truth. Three days since they found out what a truly great witch she was. Three days since they found out about the war, and her part in it. Three days since they'd spoken to her, or looked her in the eye.

To be fair, it _had_ been a huge lie she'd told them—or more rightly, secret she'd kept from them.

Secret_s_. Plural.

Well, okay. And lies too.

What she battled with now was the question _Did they have the right to know?_

And would they have understood had she told them all along?

Maybe she was being unfair to them. Maybe she wasn't giving them enough credit. Maybe she hadn't been protecting them after all. Maybe she had just been afraid that they'd pull her out of school before she was old enough to defy them.

But maybe they just wouldn't understand.

They were dentists. Middle-class muggles. Intellectuals.

_Closed-minded fools_, she thought unfairly.

They simply had no frame of reference to explain to themselves what had been happening in the wizarding world, what their daughter had been involved in.

How many times their daughter could have been killed. How dangerous her friendship to Harry Potter had been. How she'd had visions that had saved lives. How she'd been tortured on a battlefield, and then still fought when given her chance.

How they hadn't known their daughter after all.

It was tea time so Hermione went downstairs. She could hear them talking as she approached the sitting room, but the murmur of their voices fell silent as she entered. She stood in the doorway and watched them for almost a minute while they quietly looked in another direction. It was too much.

"I'm going to the Burrow," she stated.

Her father's eyes flashed and he turned toward her. Finally. She met his gaze head on.

"You're not going anyway," he said in low tones. "You are grounded until further notice."

"You can't ground me!" shot Hermione. "I'm of age."

"I can do whatever I bloody well want," he snapped back, standing up to face his daughter.

Edith startled at the suddenly raised voices. "Cecil! For the love of god!"

Cecil continued. "Go to your room. You are not to leave this house for any reason. You are not to see those hoodlums you call friends. And you sure as hell are not going to involve yourself with some godforsaken magical war!"

"The war is over, Dad!" Hermione yelled back, her fists clenched. "And don't you dare talk about my friends like that! It's thanks to them that this world you live in still exists."

"It's because of them that it almost didn't!"

Hermione turned away. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I don't!" he exploded, giving into his rage. "Because you didn't tell us anything! None of you do! You're off playing hero, fighting some maniacal dark wizard, and we're going to work and going shopping, completely unaware that at any moment the city might explode!"

"Dad, it wasn't like that—"

"Of course it was, Hermione," interrupted Edith. She stood up, wringing her hands together. "You could have been killed at any time and we'd never have known why. And if you really were as famous as that woman seemed to think, we could have been killed just to get to you. We can't protect ourselves against magic! It's a dangerous game that those… _people_… play with our lives. With all of us!"

Hermione sighed deeply. "Mum, the Order was protecting you. We had people keep watch on you and Dad around the clock. Nothing would have happened." Far from looking reassured, Hermione's parents greeted the news with twin expressions of horror. Hermione made a face and plunged on. "And as far as my safety goes… There was no place safer in the wizarding world than Hogwarts. With Dumbled—"

Cecil snorted. "Oh yes. Very safe. That's why there was a huge battle there at the end of term that you," he cocked his head to the side with an angrily ironic smile, "Hm… forgot to tell us about."

Hermione dropped her head in shame. "I didn't think you'd understand," she mumbled. "I thought you might not let me go back to Hogwarts." She bit her lip, hoping they'd calm down when they realized how much this hurt her, too.

"Well, you're not going back," said Cecil staunchly. "We never should have let you go in the first place, and you can be sure that we wouldn't have, had we known what a dangerous place it was."

Hermione gasped and looked back up. "Dad, you can't!"

Edith scowled. "Hermione Jane Granger! Don't argue with your father. You know as well as we do that you'll be better off away from that school."

But Hermione shook her head. "I'm going back," she said.

"Hermione—"

"No," she said, pulling out her wand. Her parents both took a step back, clearly afraid.

"Put that away!" snapped Cecil.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she said, "I'm not going to hurt you!"

She waved her wand and a faint blue glow suddenly surrounded her. Her parents looked on with mildly anxious looks. Hermione looked up to meet their eyes, her own face set in concentration.

"Mum, I want you to throw the teapot at me," she said calmly, as though she were asking to borrow five pounds to go to the theatre.

Edith's eyes grew large. "Hermione, what are you talking about! I'll do no such thing!"

Hermione's eyes flashed with impatience. "I'll clean it up," she said. "Just do it!"

"Hermione, we'll have none of this nonsense…" began Cecil angrily.

"Do it!" she snapped, raising her voice. For a little more effect, she forced her energy levels up, so that her hair and skirt waved slightly as though in a faint breeze.

Hands trembling, Edith picked up the ceramic teapot and tossed it toward her daughter. Hermione stood still until the teapot came into contact with the shield charm she'd erected around her. Instantly, the pot shattered, Hermione dropped the shield, cast a repairing charm at the still-falling ceramic shards, and banished the splashing tea before it had a chance to touch anything but air.

The teapot bounced slightly on the soft carpet before lying still.

Hermione set a hovering charm on it, and sent it slowly back to her mother. Edith reached out to take it in her hands, but Hermione stopped her.

"The ceramic will still be hot from the tea. Grab the handle."

Edith did, and then touched the pad of her forefinger against the pot. She gasped.

Hermione smiled in satisfaction. "At Hogwarts, I didn't just learn fancy wandwork or how to brew love potions. I learned how to control my powers, how to protect myself and those around me. I've spent the last six and a half years in a world that is alive with spells and charms, and dangers sure, but… There are dangers in your world too. The only difference is that I've grown up learning shield charms and counter-curses. I wouldn't know how to stay safe without my wand."

She motioned to the room around her. "This will always be my home. But I don't live here anymore."

Her parents stared at her, and for a moment, Hermione allowed herself to hope she'd gotten through. But then Cecil pushed past her and left the room, slamming the door. Edith looked at her almost apologetically, but she left too.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Okay, I realize that I've done it again. This chapter nearly doubled in length due to side stories and characters that have begun to demand more attention that I'd originally planned to give them. So let me say two things officially.

1) Yes, despite evidence to the contrary, this story really is about Harry Potter.

2) Harry WILL start to let us know what he's been up to next chapter.

Cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a beetle in a pie.

I know that with all the things going on, it seems like this story is actually several stories stuck together. But I swear, I swear, I swear, these offshoots really are all necessary plot points. I'm not just rambling off in my storytelling. It'll start to come together in the next few chapters.

I've already finished about a third of Chapter 10, because it was originally all going to be part of Chapter 9. But I'm terrified that if I let the chapter get too long, I'll wind up with another humungoid wait… So, updating now. More to come.

Thanks to all of you for reading. And thanks especially to my reviewers.

Love you muchly.

Kati.


	10. Unanswered Questions

X

XIX

XIXIX "Unanswered Questions" XIXIX

Hermione tried. She really did.

She stayed at her house according to her parents' wishes. She didn't do magic. She was quiet about it when she sent owls to her "hoodlum friends." She didn't go to the Burrow for Christmas. Life at home, however, refused to return to normal.

Finally, on New Year's Eve, she had to get out.

"Where are you going?" her father asked her suspiciously as she packed an overnight bag.

"I'm going to the Burrow for New Year's," she said. "And today I'll likely go to Diagon Alley so that I can cast my vote for the new Minister of Magic," she added fearlessly, pointedly referencing one more manner in which her world was wholly different from that of her parents'.

She shoved the last of her things into her pack and headed downstairs. "I'll be back tomorrow," she said. "Don't worry. I won't get into any trouble."

Cecil followed her into the kitchen, where Edith was on the phone. She took one look at her daughter and husband, and hurriedly said, "I'll have to call you back." She hung up without waiting for an answer.

"What is going on?" she asked them.

"Mum," said Hermione bravely, "I'm going stir crazy. I have to get out of the house. It's New Year's Eve, and it's also Election Day in the wizarding world. I'm going to stay at the Burrow for the night. I'll be back tomorrow before dinner."

Hermione's mother stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language. Hermione plunged on. "I hope you both have a good time at the Smyth's tonight. Please tell them I'm sorry I couldn't make it." She resettled her pack on her shoulder and began to head to the back door toward the garden apparition point.

As she reached for the door, her father stopped her. "Hermione," he said authoritatively. "If you step foot through that door…"

Before he finished his threat, Hermione met his eyes and disapparated straight from the kitchen.

XIXIX

"Granger! What brings you here?"

Draco was the first to notice Hermione's arrival at the Burrow. She apparated into the Weasley's back yard, where she could see a group coming toward the house with broomsticks and Quidditch gear. They were laughing, and certainly seemed to be enjoying their holiday more than she had been.

Ron dropped the case of Quidditch balls he'd been carrying and started toward her. Charlie waved his wand and caught the case in a hovering charm, sending a reproving look his little brother's way.

"Hey," said Ron, kissing his girlfriend hello. "I didn't think you'd be here. Did your parents come to their senses?"

Hermione huffed, looking extremely put out. She shook her head, not trusting her voice to remain steady should she try to answer.

"How long are you here?" asked Ginny, wiping sweat from her forehead with her thick sleeve.

"Until tomorrow night, if that's all right."

"Of course it's fine," said Charlie, motioning for everyone to go in. "Mum'll be thrilled to have another person to feed."

Hermione glanced around, and then settled her eyes on Draco. "Harry's still not back, then," she said flatly.

Draco pursed his lips in what might have been an attempt not to sneer. "No, he's not," said the blonde. "And no word either. Do you have any suggestions on which hex I should use when he reappears?"

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. This was Harry's longest disappearance yet. She was beginning to wonder if he would come back before school started.

Ron slung his arm around her as they entered the house. "Don't worry. Draco's just kidding," he said. "_I'm_ gonna be the one to hex him."

Hermione looked up and caught his eye. The anger there was dulled, but it was still there. It seemed as though the Burrow had already had plenty of discussions in regards to their missing person. Hermione wondered how Ginny was handling all of this, since she had taken to ignoring Harry's disappearances. But before she could ask, the redhead in question changed the subject.

"We're going to Diagon Alley this afternoon. You wanna come?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah, we're gonna exercise our right to turn Fudge out on his ear."

"Maybe you are," said Ginny, turning up her nose. "I've still got another seven years to wait before I get to vote out corrupt arsehole Ministers."

Draco scoffed. "Like it matters anyway. I've spent enough time listening in on my father's conversations to know that who wins an election has nothing to do with who got more votes. It's all about who is putting pressure on the people who _count_ the votes."

"Malfoy," said Ron with condescending reason, "The entire world is not run on money."

"Keep telling yourself that, Weasley. This grand machine we call society is nothing but money and politics. It gets pretty nasty."

"It can't be that bad," shot Ginny. "No matter how corrupt, we _are_ still dealing with _people_ here." She looked over her shoulder. "Right, Charlie?"

Charlie gave his sister a bland smile. "Well… our voting system isn't perfect," he began diplomatically. "There is plenty of room for fraud. But the way I look at it is this: I'm still going to vote, just in case something happens and my vote accidentally counts."

Draco snorted, and even Ron laughed. Ginny and Hermione both opened their mouths to argue, but a despondent voice from the stairs made them turn.

"There's no reason to bother voting. Malfoy's right. The election has already been decided. We just don't know it yet."

Hermione almost dropped her jaw at the waste of a person that stood before her. Bill had lost a lot of weight; he looked to be a skeleton with skin stretched over it. His hair hung shaggy past his shoulders. His skin was an ashy color that absorbed the Weasley freckles on his cheeks. His eyes were lifeless; he looked like the walking dead.

"Morning, Bill," said Charlie pleasantly. It was already mid-afternoon. "Are you hungry? Mum's at Diagon Alley, but I could fix you something."

Bill shook his head and shuffled into the kitchen, saying, "I'm just going to have some tea."

Charlie followed him without hesitation. Hermione looked to Ron and Ginny, who turned to each other.

"He's looking pretty bad," said Ginny quietly.

Ron shrugged. "He'll be okay." He didn't seem to believe it.

"What happened?" whispered Hermione.

Ginny looked at her with troubled eyes. "He can't get past Fleur's death." She lowered her voice further and continued, "I think they were bonded already, but he won't say. But it's just… abnormal, how much this is affecting him."

Her brother nodded a reluctant agreement. "He hasn't eaten since he's been here. Charlie and Mum keep trying, but…"

"He seems to have given up. I can't say I blame him." Ginny had a unique, if not complex perspective on the effects of bonds on a person's will to survive. Draco came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up into sympathetic eyes.

"Let's head on to Diagon," he said.

The group grasped onto the change of subject determinedly, and broke up to shower and change for the trip.

XIXIX

Ron shoved Ginny into the floo, and the other three apparated into the Three Broomsticks, arriving in time to greet her as she stepped back out of the fireplace. Ron looked around expectantly. He was already five minutes late.

A slender witch with piercing, intelligent eyes and short-cropped brown hair stepped forward with her hand outstretched. "Hello, are you Ronald Weasley?"

"I am," said Ron, drawing himself up to his full height. He took her hand and said, "And you must be Angela Diamond."

She nodded professionally and looked to the others. Ron colored just a little. "These are my friends," he said, embarrassed suddenly to be standing in a group of teenagers. "Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. And my sister, Ginny Weasley."

Angela shook all of their hands in turn. "Quite a famous crowd you run with," she said with a smile. "It's an honor to meet you all."

Ron flushed red at that. Hermione plastered a polite smile on her face to counteract the annoyance in her eyes. Draco and Ginny both bowed their heads respectfully.

"And you as well," said Draco.

"Well, um…" Ron shuffled a bit, glancing around.

"I've already gotten us a table," said Angela, "But I didn't realize you were going to be bringing company."

"Oh, they're not staying," Ron said quickly, "They're… er…"

"We have errands to run," said Ginny. "Election day and all. I do hope you'll excuse us."

"Of course." She turned to Ron and motioned to a table against the wall. "I trust you brought notes from Halloween," she was saying as they moved to sit down. Ron re-enlarged a notebook he had stowed in his pocket.

Ginny, Hermione, and Draco headed out the back door toward Diagon Alley. Draco held up his wand and tapped the brick wall, which opened up to the lively shopping area. As soon as they stepped through, he turned and bowed.

"Well, ladies, I'm afraid I'm off. Important business to attend to, and what not. I'll meet up with you later."

Before either could say a word, he was walking away, quickly lost in the crowd. The two young women looked at each other and shrugged.

"Gringotts?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shrugged, and they began to walk. They were bundled up tight against the cold air that stung their faces. Their breath came out in puffs of white vapor that disappeared into nothingness. Days old snow and ice crunched under their feet. But despite the conditions, Hermione was glad to be out.

"How's it been with Draco?"

The redhead shrugged, "Okay, I guess. Pretty good, even. We play Quidditch all the time, and he's helped me with the Potions homework that Professor Sadist assigned over the holidays. He and Ron are even getting along pretty well. Mum loves him of course, and Dad's stopped glaring at him. I think he's finally completely accepted that Draco is not his father's son."

"An understatement," Hermione agreed. "How's he doing?"

"Draco?"

"Yeah."

"You mean with Harry gone?"

"You're talking about Harry again, then?"

Ginny cut her a look. "It's going on two weeks. There's a limit to how long I can avoid him as a topic of conversation. I figure I'm stuck with him the rest of my life. I'd best get used to the way he operates."

"And does Draco seem to share this view?"

"Draco's pretty well pissed off."

They walked a few steps in silence before Hermione stated, "They're going to break up, aren't they?"

"Yeah." Ginny turned to her friend with an almost philosophical air. "What I can't figure out is who I feel sorry for more. I mean, Harry's never been with anyone else. And Draco—despite all the fucked-up-ed-ness of their relationship last year—Draco was actually good for him, I think. I don't know what Harry's going to do when Draco dumps him." She took a breath. "And honestly, I don't think that Harry actually considers it to be a real possibility."

"Which is exactly why you have to feel sorry for Draco." Hermione sighed. "Harry's been my best friend for years, but… God, he's being such a prat right now. I can't believe Draco has put up with as much as he has."

Ginny gave her a pointed look. "I can't believe you've put up with as much as you have."

Hermione chewed her lip. It was true. Ron could be a right jerk sometimes. But Hermione justified it because there were always reasons. And usually he'd try to make it up to her later. "Maybe it's different when they're alone. I know Ron acts different when it's just the two of us."

"I _do_ like my brother," said Ginny, almost grudgingly. "But I'll never understand what you see in him." She flashed a grin that Hermione returned.

"I'd be worried if you did."

They joined a queue outside that weaved around the corner of the building, and then entered through the front doors of Gringotts. Inside, the line snaked back and forth all the way to the back of the building into a room that was guarded heavily by Goblin security. When they finally reached the entrance to the back voting room, Ginny stepped off to the side to wait while Hermione entered.

The voting room itself was humongous. As witches and wizards entered, they broke off into one of a dozen smaller queues that led toward the back wall where there were tables staffed by Ministry officials and volunteers. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat at the two tables on the far side. Hermione joined the queue that led to Mrs. Weasley's table.

"Oh, I'm glad you could make it," smiled Mrs. Weasley when Hermione finally reached the front of the line. "Your father had seemed rather upset at King's Cross."

Hermione flushed, embarrassed that Mrs. Weasley had been witness to her father's reaction to Remus.

"Ginny said they wanted you to stay home during break. I'm so sorry you missed Christmas at the Burrow. We had such a great time…"

The wizard standing in line behind Hermione cleared his throat loudly and impatiently, glaring over his square spectacles at the delay caused by the exchange of pleasantries. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, but got back to business.

"Anyway, it's good to see you. May I have your wand, please?"

Hermione handed over her wand. Mrs. Weasley dropped it into a small box. A ticket shot out of one side.

"I'm actually going to be at the Burrow tonight, if that's all right," said Hermione. "My parents are at a dinner party tonight, and it's New Year's, so I just thought…"

"Nonsense," replied the older witch. "You don't ever need permission to stay with us. Our doors are always open." She handed Hermione her wand and the slip of paper. "Just walk into the booth, close the curtains, and follow the instructions you see printed inside. And I will see you tonight."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you. Have a good day."

"I will, sweetie. You too." She gave her a parting smile filled with warmth. Hermione noticed as she stepped around the table that the warmth suddenly and completely disappeared as Mrs. Weasley turned to the next man in line.

"Wand, please," she said officiously, although not _quite_ coldly.

Hermione glanced down at the ticket and saw her name printed at the top. Underneath was a list of all thirteen candidates. Fudge was listed first.

She stepped into the booth and pulled the curtain shut around her. She bit back a sudden urge to call out, "Who used up all the shampoo?" and giggled instead. Inside the booth was a large black box with a slot at the top. A sign read, "MARK CHOICE ON BALLOT WITH YOUR WAND. SUBMIT."

Simple enough.

Hermione scrolled down the list of choices until she came to Aberdeen Abernathy. Abernathy was a pacifist who supported muggle rights, and who was therefore not the most popular candidate. But Hermione was determined not to vote for just anyone. She wanted to actually agree with her candidate.

She dropped the ballot in the box, and left to meet with Ginny.

XIXIX

"So you were actually aware when the vampire began using magic on you?"

Ron nodded. "Yes. Although, even with the circle, it still took me several moments to realize exactly what the change was. I imagine that in future experiments we'll either need to change the configuration of the protective circle, or perhaps strengthen it."

Angela scribbled some notes, chewing on her quill whenever she paused to think. "Perhaps more water from the River Stix. It's amazingly potent, though, so we'd have to ensure we didn't use too much." She offered Ron a wry smile. "We wouldn't want to fry your brain with too much firsthand knowledge of the mental constructs of magical creatures."

"I've thought of that plenty, believe me," said Ron, who realized that Angela was only half kidding with her concern. There were several reasons that mental magic on magical creatures was considered to be impossible. It couldn't be done by humans without some sort of extraordinarily powerful outside aide. And even with that, the few experiments that hadn't failed had either damaged the researchers, or produced mostly insignificant results.

"Can I ask you a question that's a bit off the subject?"

Ron looked up and met Angela's eye. It gleamed with the same professional curiosity she's had when he had begun to explain about his meeting with the vampire, and the awareness he'd felt of its powers affecting him. He nodded.

"How close are you to Harry Potter?"

Ron reddened. In all the time he'd been friends with Harry, he'd never quite gotten used to people's fascination with him. He hadn't yet worried that Angela was only interested in him because of his affiliation to Harry, so he took a moment accept that maybe she didn't find him to be brilliant. Maybe she just wanted to talk a bit about Harry and needed an excuse. It probably wasn't true, but it was best to be disappointed now rather than later.

"He's my best mate," said Ron evenly, with minimal hesitation. "Why? Would you like an autograph?"

Angela laughed, and Ron let his disappointment wash away. "No. Thank you, but no." She laughed again. "I'm afraid my star-chasing days are long since over."

"Well, let me know if you relapse," said Ron helpfully.

Angela pointed to him with a grin. "Right-o," she said. "No, what I was really wondering was how much you know about his alleged possession of a Dementor."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "That's not part of the official story," he said.

Angela shrugged. "I've got plenty of connection with the Ministry, trust me. I do a lot of work with the Department of Mysteries, and I'm a consultant with the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. So, yeah, I have the inside scoop." She looked at Ron expectantly. When he didn't say anything right away, she pressed, "Is it true?"

Ron inclined his head ever so slightly.

"How did he do it?"

Ron closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. _The few experiments that hadn't failed had damaged the researchers…_

"He doesn't talk about it."

XIXIX

Draco had only taken two steps inside the Weasley Wizard Wheezes when an exuberant redhead bounced into his field of vision. He was wearing a jumper with a huge F stitched into the front, but he wore a nametag that said, 'Hello, my name is George.'

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Which one are you?" he said impatiently.

"Nice to see you too, my dear Slytherin friend," smiled the redhead. He turned around and called out, "Oh, brother dear? We have a visitor who wants to know which one I am!"

Two seconds later, another Weasley bounded into view. He, too, was wearing a jumper with a huge F stitched into the front, and a nametag that said, 'Hello, my name is George.'

The second Weasley grinned at him. Draco slapped his forehead. "You know what? Forget it. I don't care. Have you two got a minute? I have some people waiting outside who would like to meet with you."

The first Weasley narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "In regards to what?" he asked.

"Business," said Draco. "Do you have time or not?"

"For you, Draco," said the second, "We've got all the time in the world." He leaned over and ruffled the blonde's hair. Draco slapped his hand away.

"Come on," he said, looking over his shoulder. Behind him, two boys appeared as they removed identical bracelets from their wrists. The Tricksters smirked at the twins with Slytherin casualness.

"Kyle, Lokstavian," said Draco, motioning to them, "Meet…" he glanced between the identical twins uncertainly, "Fred and George. It doesn't matter which one's which."

The twins held out their hands. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," they said in unison. Then, still speaking with perfect harmony, they added seriously, "And it _does_ matter which one is which. We're wholly unique individuals."

Kyle laughed out loud, but Lokstavian and Draco regarded the twins coolly.

"These are my sellers at Hogwarts," said Draco. "They wanted to meet you now in order to create a business relationship that will continue past my graduation."

"Draco's so formal," said Kyle. "Mostly we want to ensure you know who to go to so that the grand tradition of pranks at Hogwarts continues on into the future."

One of the twins cocked his head to the side and regarded Kyle with much scrutiny. "Who are you," he said slowly, "That you have so much interest in the grand tradition of pranks at Hogwarts?"

Kyle glanced at Lokstavian and the two suddenly gave the twins identically wicked grins. "In your fourth year," said Kyle, "The two of you served two months' detention for charming Snape's potions closet to sing 'The Song That Never Ends'."

"But you were innocent," said Lokstavian.

"We know," added Kyle.

"Because we weren't," grinned Lokstavian.

The Tricksters smiled up at the Weasleys unapologetically. The Weasleys looked dumbfounded.

"The rain in the Great Hall during breakfast," said one.

The Tricksters nodded.

"The bathroom doors refusing to open unless someone did a pee-pee dance?" asked the other.

The Tricksters nodded.

"The volcano in the Astronomy Tower."

The Tricksters nodded.

"The black paint on the portraits by the Ravenclaw dormitories?"

"No, that one really was Peeves," said Kyle. "And it wasn't that funny, I might add, which is why we didn't think to do it first."

The twins laughed, and then hugged the two Slytherins.

"I'm Fred."

"And I'm George."

"And we never thought we'd find you!"

"But you really do exist! We _knew_ it wasn't just Peeves doing all the things we were getting blamed for!"

"The next generation of pranksters… and we're already in cahoots!"

"Oh, what a glorious day!"

They were almost crying, and Draco had to laugh.

"Come on," said Fred, "We've got some new products we're testing that we'll hopefully be sending on to Draco within the next month. The lab's in the back. It has safeguards up so that no one dies if they get a hold of one of our prototypes."

"Well," corrected George, "They won't die if they get a hold of one of our prototypes _inside the lab_."

"True, true. This way."

As the five young men turned toward the back, a little bell jingled at the front door, alerting them that someone had entered the store. Draco looked over his shoulder and saw Hermione and Ginny enter and begin shedding their coats and cloaks. He felt a moment of panic. He could _not_ afford to let Hermione get suspicious of them. As far as the twins were concerned, her presence at Hogwarts was the biggest risk to their business dealing with Draco. Thus far, she had had no reason to notice or be suspicious of the Tricksters. But catching them here, with the Weasleys, and Draco, with no reason or excuse, would be sure to raise questions in that ever-active brain of hers.

Draco kept his face calm, as pleased to see them as he would be any other time, and mentally berated himself for not considering this might happen. He'd gotten the Tricksters in the store unnoticed with the Invisibracelets, but now here they all stood. In plain view. With no back-up plan.

Loky nudged him. Draco looked over.

Loky purposefully shifted his eyes over to Ginny and said, "Well?"

Draco stared at him blankly.

"Are you going to introduce me or not?" he murmured, but loud enough for Ginny and Hermione to overhear him.

Draco caught on fast, willing himself not to let his surprise show. This really was an excellent back-up plan. Shame he hadn't thought of it first.

"Right," he said. "Ginny, Hermione, I didn't think it would take you quite so long at Gringotts. We've been waiting here for awhile."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not like you even told us where you were going."

"But obviously Ginny was going to come see her brothers while you were here."

_Yeah, Draco.__ That WAS really obvious. How exactly did you miss that one?_

Ginny stepped forward, seeming to realize where this was going. "Well, we're here now. What's up?" She very noticeably didn't look at Loky until Draco motioned to him.

"I just wanted to introduce the two of you to a couple of friends of mine. Hermione, Ginny, I'd like you to meet Kyle and Lokstavian. They're fifth years in Slytherin, but otherwise remarkably dull."

_Shit. Overkill. Hermione'll get suspicious._

Loky punched him lightly in the arm as he stepped forward to Ginny. "Don't listen to him. He's jealous of our good looks and wit. It's nice to meet you finally. Draco's told me a lot about you."

Ginny did not blush, but held his eye brazenly. "The same to you," she said.

Kyle waved a hello to Hermione and Ginny, but then faded into the background. The twins pulled Draco aside pointedly. Hermione strayed in their direction.

"Malfoy, you little prick!" Fred hissed, darting glances over his shoulder. "You neglected to mention that you were fixing up_ our sister_ with that guy when you brought him in."

Draco held up his hands in surrender, noting with relief that Hermione was watching their exchange. "Because I wanted you to meet him and like him before I fixed up my _very nice friend_ with a girl who's got more overprotective brothers than red hairs on her head," he hissed back. "Look, you talked to him. You know he's a good guy. So, what? Do you want me to apologize for not sending him to an early death by walking in here screaming that I was hoping two of my friends might _possibly_ be interested in each other enough to _maybe_ hook up?"

"Hermione," George called pleadingly, playing along perfectly, "What do you know about this guy?"

Hermione came over looking slightly disconcerted. She shrugged apologetically. "I can't say I've met him before," she said.

"Oh, that's just great," said Fred. "He could be a serial killer for all we know!"

"He is not," Draco ground out, looking suitably pissed at the insult against his friend. "And don't you _dare_ sic Miss 'Compulsive Mystery Solver' Granger, here, after him." He turned on the women in question and pointed at her accusingly, "Lokstavian is a nice guy who has never spent a night in detention, and if you start trailing him now, Head Girl, it's going to make him paranoid and he'll think you're trying to trap him and break his perfect record…"

"Hey, wait just a minute!" shot Hermione. "I am _not_ getting in the middle of this." She rounded on Fred and George. "Ginny is old enough to date whomever she wants without any interference, so you'd better leave her alone no matter _who_ she dates. And you, Draco!" she turned her steely glare on him, "I can't believe you think I'd follow someone just because these jerks," she poked her thumb out toward the twins, "Are stupid enough to claim he's a serial killer because he's interested in their sister."

She glared around at the three boys imperiously. They all looked suitably cowed from her rant.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourselves," she intoned venomously. "I'm going to go buy some school supplies. I'll meet up with you later."

With one last glare, she turned and stalked out the door, leaving the Weasley twins and one Draco Malfoy all staring at their feet in shame.

Until the door closed behind her.

Fred and George slapped Draco's back happily. "Oh, that was awesome! She totally bought it!"

"Draco, that was brilliant about making him paranoid—there's no way she'll even look twice in his direction now! She'd feel way too guilty."

"Or else worry she was somehow helping us," continued the other twin.

Draco grinned, "Yeah, that was pretty brilliant of me, wasn't it?"

"But don't let it go to that pretty head of yours," said Kyle, coming up behind him. "Be a shame to see it swell."

The twins laughed, and George ruffled Draco's hair, much to the blonde's chagrin.

"Anyway," said Fred, "Come on back, we'll show you the lab." He looked over to call Lokstavian, but Kyle grabbed his arm.

"Let them talk a while longer," he said.

The twins both turned to Kyle. "He really fancies Ginny?"

Kyle nodded.

George craned his neck over the displays to look at his sister talking with Lokstavian by the front door. "Well, what do you know?" he mused quietly. "There _is_ love after Harry Potter."

He and Fred grinned at each other, happy for their sister. "Come on," said Fred, "Let them talk. You can fill him in later."

The four boys headed into the back room.

XIXIX

Hermione was pissed off beyond reason as she stormed down the street with the vague intention of going to Flourish and Blotts. She knew that there were things that she had wanted to get while at Diagon Alley, but she was far too furious at the moment to think over her shopping list properly. So instead, she stormed purposefully to nowhere in particular.

As she passed the Apothecary, it occurred to her that she would need a new crystal stirring rod before NEWTs this May. She turned on her heel back toward the store, and ran smack into Luna Lovegood.

"Finally," said Luna, rubbing her forehead. "I've been calling you for almost a block."

"Sorry," grumbled Hermione. "My mind was somewhere else."

"Seems to be clear across the Channel," observed Luna. "Are you okay?"

"Sure. I just…" She shook her head in frustration.

"Just what?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes in consternation, wondering if it was even possible to put all of the things that bothered her into words, and why she was considering telling any of this to Luna. Except that Luna really did look genuinely concerned. Before Hermione realized she'd come to a decision, she heard the words tumble out of her mouth.

"I'm just sick of all the crap people expect of me. Nobody seems to understand or care who I really am. There's all this 'Hermione the Seer' rubbish, and then my friends seem to vacillate between thinking I'm this clever witch and straight-O student, or some sort of slave-driving rule Nazi! I mean, it's even gotten to the point that Ron asks me if he's speaking to his girlfriend, or the Head Girl—like I'm two separate people."

Luna gave her a sympathetic look, and then began to tug at one of her asymmetrical braids. "Is that better?" she asked after a moment.

Hermione looked at the Ravenclaw in disbelief. Luna hadn't _done_ anything, and yet here she was, acting like she knew Hermione so well, and Hermione should feel so much better just because Luna had stopped for three seconds to listen to her rant about what she'd been going through…

But actually, Hermione realized as the tension eased out of her shoulders, she really _did_ feel better. She gave Luna a grudging smile.

"Yeah," she murmured. "It is."

"Why haven't you told anyone this?" Luna cocked her head to one side and twisted two of her braids together.

Hermione chewed her lip and shook her head. "I don't even know what I'm thinking half the time. What am I supposed to tell people?"

Luna shrugged. "Anything. Everything. Something."

"But what if it's just nothing?"

"Nothing is nothing. Everything else is something."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Luna grinned.

"I miss you, Hermione. Are you never going to forgive me?"

The Gryffindor sagged against the Apothecary's display window. "It's not that, Luna. I miss you too."

"Then why can't we talk anymore? We were friends before."

Hermione picked at the ice that framed the edges of the window. Her fingers were cold inside her gloves. She looked up at Luna, with her owlish eyes and braids sticking out in all directions, and sighed. She knew she was right. And she did feel better to have spoken with her. Suddenly, she couldn't remember why she'd held onto her anger and hurt so long.

"You really ought to wear a hat," she said. "It's cold outside."

Luna shook her head. "Winter hats collect Ice Cooties."

"It's only snow, and it melts."

"Ice Cooties burrow into the skin and freeze your brain. Wool hats are especially susceptible. Your hat's not wool, is it?" Her voice was concerned once more. Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, it is," she said. She hesitated, but then made up her mind. She took off her hat and threw it into the snow. "Let's go get a butterbeer."

The two girls turned toward the Three Broomsticks, but then paused as the door to the Apothecary opened in their path. A bundled figure stepped out and turned in their direction to walk past them, but then paused. It reached up and pulled a scarf down from around its head, revealing Remus Lupin.

"Hi girls," he said. "It's cold out. Where are your hats?"

Hermione burst out laughing, feeling suddenly giddy. A weight seemed to have been lifted from her chest, and she found she couldn't contain herself anymore. She leaned her shoulder against Luna, who looked up and announced, "Ice Cooties," as though that settled the matter. Hermione laughed harder.

Remus raised both eyebrows, not getting the joke.

Luna grinned at him, and slung her arms around Hermione's neck. "I have to go, 'Mione," she said. "I'll catch up with you when term starts, okay?"

Hermione nodded to her, wiping tears from her eyes. But even through her laughter, she could see how pleased Luna was to be speaking with her again. She could also tell how pleased she was herself.

Remus looked around, and in a voice that was clearly trying to be casual, he asked, "Are you here with your parents?"

The laughter fell from Hermione's face. "No, Remus," she said. "I'm so sor—"

"Stop," he said harshly, waving her words away. "You have nothing to apologize for, Hermione. You have done absolutely nothing wrong."

"Still," she said in a small voice.

"Still nothing. Do you want a hot chocolate? Or a butterbeer? It really is too cold for you to be out without a hat. You'll catch your death of cold."

XIXIX

Inside the Three Broomsticks, Remus shrugged off layers upon layers of winter clothes. Underneath, he looked weary and rather ill.

"Merlin, Remus," began Hermione, but again he waved her off.

"It's nothing," he said. "Just recovering from the full moon. Professor Wyrmwuld, the Potions Master at Durmstang, doesn't make as smooth a Wolfsbane Potion as Professor Snape. It takes a bit more to recover from the transition lately."

Hermione stood back up without thinking. "I should get you some healing potions…" she began, already throwing her jacket back on.

Remus held up a shopping bag. "I appreciate your concern," he said kindly. "But I took care of that already at the Apothecary."

"Oh." Hermione flushed and settled back into her seat while Remus headed up to the counter. He returned a few moments later with two butterbeers and two hot chocolates.

"You'll drink both," he told her. "The chocolate is good for you, and you'll need it after wandering around all day without a hat."

Hermione snorted, but made no argument. Instead, she murmured her thanks.

"How do you like Durmstang?" she asked.

Remus smiled. "Quite a lot," he said. "It's different from Hogwarts, but it's really good to be teaching again. But I don't know…"

"What?" asked Hermione, sipping her hot chocolate.

He breathed deeply. "It's just… have you talked to Harry about me? I mean, I hate to put you in the middle of this, but I can't help but worry that he's not come home during break because he's upset with me for taking the job. I think I ought to come back to London."

Hermione shook her head fervently. "No, Remus, I…" She chewed her lip. "I know he wanted to see you. Draco said Harry specifically told him so the night before break started. I know he misses you. It's… there's some other reason he's been leaving."

Remus sighed heavily and ran his hand across his face. "I just want to be here for him."

"Yeah, but he's not here to be here for." She leaned forward. "Look, Remus, don't worry too much about Harry. He'll come to you when he's ready."

The older man clenched his teeth together; a muscle twitched in his jaw. It made him look pained as well as weary and ill.

"You look terrible, Remus," Hermione admonished. "Drink your hot chocolate."

He gave her a wan smile and complied.

"Your name came up recently," he said, with just a hint of mischief in his eye.

"Oh? Let me guess. Rita Skeeter called you for inside information about me so that she could do an article that would gain her back her reputation."

Both eyebrows shot up again. "Not exactly," he said slowly, considering what she'd said and reading between the lines enough to understand that _something_ had happened recently with the reporter in question. And knowing Hermione's aversion to her newfound fame, and general desire to avoid discussing such things, he quickly decided to skip it as a topic of conversation in order to pursue his original line. This one would be more fun, anyway.

"It was during the last faculty meeting of term," he explained. "We're understaffed—have been since the war. One of the positions we're lacking is Divination Professor. Headmaster Vallent wants a _name_ when they next fill the position."

He bit back a grin as Hermione groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. "Remus," she said to her lap, "Please don't tell me you suggested I would be good for the position."

He laughed, holding up his hands in innocence, although she missed the gesture. "I didn't say a thing. I promise."

"Good." She peaked her head up, although refused to straighten all the way just yet. "I hardly know anything about Divination. It's not as though I'm properly trained. I don't even have an OWL in the subject."

"I think your life experience more than makes up for it."

"I think people assume far more of me than what I deserve."

"I think you underestimate yourself."

Hermione flushed. "Even still," she said. "I have no intention of leaving Ron after we graduate."

Remus blinked. "Who said anything about leaving Ron?"

Hermione sighed heavily, and took a hearty swig of her butterbeer. "I just don't want to go so far away as Durmstang. I want things to work with him, you know? And I don't know that it would if I left."

"You think I should come back to London to be near Harry?" he asked seriously. Hermione opened her mouth, but Remus spoke over her quickly. "I'm asking your opinion, here. You know Harry better than almost anyone."

They were quiet for a moment while Hermione thought over her answer. Remus sipped his hot chocolate cautiously, eyeing the younger woman. Finally, she looked up and met his eye.

"Remus, I honestly don't think it would make a difference." She looked away, and whispered, "I'm sorry."

He nodded in return. "I'm sure you're right."

XIXIX

Harry breathed in through his nose with some difficulty. It was broken; he could feel it. It was dark or his eyes were closed—he was too disoriented to tell which.

_Where am I?_

He could smell… salt… alcohol… and… someone. A person or people. There was a murmur of unintelligible voices, a babble, a cheer.

He strained to understand. He needed to know.

_I'll never be able to remember_, he thought, but couldn't discern why exactly he knew that was true.

_It's happening again_.

He pushed himself to clear his head as quickly as possible. He had to know.

_I have to try._

The voices began to come together, forming words, making sense. He caught one phrase… a saying… what did it mean?

"Happy New Year!" came the happy call. It wasn't directed to him. It was near him. Female voice.

He thought his eyes were probably closed, and threw all of his effort into opening them. He groaned at the exertion, could feel himself shaking.

The voices fell silent for one moment. Then, a flurry of movement, anxious voices, confusion, anger.

He had to know. Even if he wouldn't remember it. Time was almost out. He had to know. He had to try…

"Okay. Got him."

Nothing.

XIXIX

He woke with a raging headache, spinning with a dream that stabbed through his brain and down through to his toes as long as he tried to think about it. Harry clutched at his head, wanting to remember, feeling he _had_ to remember, but hurting too much to hold on.

Rolling onto his stomach, he let the memories go.

"Fuck," he hissed. He lay there, breathing deeply for some time before slowly and stiffly pulling himself into a sitting position. He was on a bed with brown sheets that didn't quite match the nondescript tan of the walls and carpet. On the left side of the room was a small table and chair set. On top of the table was a tray with a plastic water pitcher and glass. At the head of the bed was an abstract painting of blue shapes. On the right side of the room was a bathroom, door ajar, and a mirror set into the wall. A muggle hotel room.

Harry stood and went to the mirror to examine himself. He was filthy. His nose was broken; he wondered for a moment why that realization caused a sense of déjà vu, but let go of the thought when pain stabbed through his head. His robes were torn, covered in blood. He pulled them over his head.

There were several large, tender bruises on his body, but other than his nose, nothing seemed to be broken. Harry very carefully did not wonder what had happened to cause his injuries as he healed himself. He wondered where he was, but did not wonder how he got there.

He took a shower. He cast a cleansing charm on his clothes, and repaired the larger rips in the fabric. He apparated to the Three Broomsticks.

The dining room was mostly empty. Harry snatched up a copy of the Daily Prophet that lay abandoned on one of the tables. January 3rd. Term started back in the morning. Where the hell had he been?

He clenched his hands against the pain, and let that line of thought go. There was no use trying at this point, he knew. Instead, he bummed some floo powder from Tom, and flooed to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Remus?"

No answer.

"Draco?"

He made short order of sweeping through the house, but it was completely empty. He was aware of Ginny through their bond, but had not yet tried to contact her. She was furious. Again. She wouldn't speak to him if he tried. He knew she wouldn't. But still he tried.

'Ginny? I'm at Remus'. Where is everyone?'

Silence. But… relief surged through Harry. She was going to speak to him, she was just removing herself from a room full of people before she did. She was going to her room. He couldn't believe it. For months now she'd been ignoring him whenever he…

Pain.

No.

'You're at the Burrow? Where's Remus?'

'Remus,' she fumed through their bond, and his heart began to pound in his chest in time with hers, slamming her fury into him, 'Has gone back to Durmstang early, because _you_ could not be arsed to show up and see him even for TEN GODDAMN MINUTES, HARRY! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?'

He dug his nails into his palms, unable to think.

'Oh, don't give me that Nowhere shite, Harry! You've been gone two weeks!'

Another jolt bit into him, clouding his vision.

'Right. Fine. None of my goddamn business. Whatever you say.'

She began to seal up their link, but he pushed through. 'Where's Draco?'

'He's here. With us. Because you weren't there for him and someone had to be.'

Her anger was venom, was poison, was eating into him and mixing with the pain of unanswered questions. She shut him out and Harry fell to his knees, regaining himself, thinking about anything he could…

A cup of tea would be nice. My name is Harry Potter. I need to change clothes. My room is upstairs. Remus is not here. I need to go to Ginny. She'll never forgive me. God, Draco's not ever going to speak to me again after…

Pain.

No.

The wallpaper is peeling by the corner. I have two hands. Merlin, I feel like shite.

He got himself under control. And even though he knew his control wouldn't last if he went to the Burrow and found himself under a barrage of questions he could not answer, he had to go. Nearly everyone he loved that was in the country was at that house, and he needed to be there too because he was hurt and confused and angry and having a piss-ass poor day so far.

This was not going to go well.

He held his breath, and stepped into the floo. "The Burrow."

He stepped into the living room of the Burrow and all conversation stopped. Ginny was just entering the room from the stairs. Ron, Draco, and Charlie were seated, looking up at him with varying levels of astonishment and resentment.

"Please don't ask questions," Harry said quickly.

But that was all he got out before Draco stood up and demanded, "Where have you been?"

Harry clenched his fists, tried to get away, tried to think neutral thoughts through the pain, tried not to hate everyone for pushing and pushing and drowning him in a barrage of questions he couldn't think about to answer, but his own anger was rising up to meet theirs, and he had to get out of there before the pain overwhelmed him. He was going to lose it again, and he hated himself for coming here, hated himself for loving these people enough to try when he knew it was going to come to this…

And then the screaming started.

Charlie had left the room once the fighting started, had gone upstairs to check on his brother, had begun to wail, "Jesus, Bill, Jesus, oh Merlin, oh Gods no…"

And the questions stopped.

And Harry came out of his internal horror and stepped into the panicked faces of Ginny and Ron as they turned and bolted up the stairs. And he and Draco were following, and then Mrs. Weasley was there and she was screaming, "My boy, my boy!" and Charlie was holding his body and his head drooped at an odd angle and the rope tied around his neck was severed but it was too late.

And Ginny was in his arms, she was sobbing and clinging to him, and Harry had wanted his twin back but not like this.

Oh Gods, not like this.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Hey guys. Nother chapter. I'm a little drunk right now. Had another death in the family. If you pray to a god or goddess or multiples of the aforementioned or to the universe or to probability or whatever, and don't mind too much, I'd appreciate it if you'd take a moment and do a shout-out for me, because I'm feeling kind of crummy right now.

Peace,

Kati


	11. Being There

A/N: Hey, everyone. This is a short post. I'm not going to have time to make this chapter as long as I'd wanted it before I head out of town this weekend, so I'm going to go ahead and give you this so you know I'm still around and still working on the fic. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up in a couple of weeks.

X

XIX

XIXIX "Being There" XIXIX

Harry walked with the line of dazed Weasleys in the funeral procession. In the front were two witches with white robes, faces covered by white veils. Between them they held Bill's body in a hovering charm. It was wrapped in a soft gauzy material that made him look like a floating cocoon.

Behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley supported one another. Then came the twins, walking upright and strong, but their stillness betrayed the loss they felt. Ron and Charlie followed them, their feet shuffling listlessly along the dirt path. Ron stared off vaguely into the distance; Charlie seemed to have his eyes closed as he walked. Harry and Ginny were the last of the family. They walked in silence, their hands clasped together. She hadn't looked him in the eye yet today, and her thoughts were closed to him through their bond. Her hand was cold.

They very slowly made their way along the winding path that curled through an open field. A single stone marked the head of each grave. The grass was brown and dead and sheets of unmelted snow extended across large areas of the cemetery. The air was cold, and the wind whipped through them, lifting Ginny's hair from her shoulders and back. She didn't move to restrain it. She hardly seemed to notice.

The rest of the procession trailed behind them—friends, coworkers, members of the Order. Four or five dozen people had come to say their final goodbyes to Bill Weasley.

After a time, the two witches turned from the dirt path, and stepped lightly through the snow and grass, making their way toward a grave that lay open, waiting. Dumbledore was standing there, wearing deep purple robes covered in a heavy black cloak. Harry had never seen him look more somber. As the congregation gather around, the witches maneuvered Bill's body so that it hovered about three feet above the opening of his final resting place.

Silence and stillness prevailed. Dumbledore retrieved his wand and tapped it against the stone that lay at the head of Bill's grave. A brilliant golden wisp lifted out of it and extended to Bill's hovering form. Slowly, the stream of light surrounded the body and began to pulse. Mrs. Weasley's knees went weak; her husband and Charlie wrapped their arms around her waist and shoulders to hold her up. Ginny leaned against Harry, her eyes fixed on the proceedings.

The golden wisp ceased its pulse, and flowed steadily back toward the stone. Bill's body lowered into the grave of its own volition, the earth reclaiming its own. Once the soft light had retreated completely into the stone, Dumbledore tapped it once more with his wand, uttering a soft incantation. Instantly, another light shot out from the top of the stone, swirling together to form a picture of Bill.

He was young and healthy, smiling. He looked around at his loved ones, and raised a tentative hand to wave at them. A string of words began to stream out of the stone. They sorted themselves out, hovering in front of Bill's shins.

William Weasley 

_Son, Brother, and War Hero_

_Born November 29th, 1970_

_Died of a Broken Heart, January 3rd, 1998_

XIXIX

Harry stood alone in the corner of the Weasley's living room, where everyone had gathered after the funeral. The room was full of witches and wizards. Harry knew many of them, but he sought no one's company, and no one sought his.

Ron and Hermione were civil to him, although clearly still angry. Remus had avoided him the entire day. Ginny wouldn't speak to him and had not approached him at all since they returned from the cemetery. Molly had hugged him and cried, but as the grieving mother, she was in no position to keep Harry company. Draco would come stand with him, but they had nothing to say to each other at this point. It was more of a gesture that he would stay with Harry through this, but there was so very much that the two young men needed to work out. Now was simply not the time.

Harry didn't look over when he felt Severus enter. The Potions Master made his way around, offering his condolences to certain people, and then made a beeline for Harry. Harry didn't look at him. As inexplicably grateful as he suddenly felt for the man's company, he felt similarly irritable about the many circumstances that kept him alone.

"You weren't at the funeral," he said, as though he felt betrayed by the man's absence.

Severus nodded and positioned himself so that he stood with his back to the wall, facing the room. "I had classes to teach. I hardly knew the boy."

"You worked with him in the Order for two years."

"We rarely spoke."

"I was here." That should have been reason enough to come.

Severus looked at him. "I didn't realize you had wanted me to keep you company."

"No one else will speak to me."

"Can you blame them?"

Harry was silent. He was no more capable of voicing his excuses than he was capable of thinking about them. He knew he had to do something, had to let someone know that something was terribly wrong. But he could not focus long enough to figure out the problem, and the pain came to him whenever he tried to talk about it.

He was trapped.

He winced at the stab of headache behind his eyes. He had already thought too much. Best just to let it go.

He rubbed his eyes, shifting his glasses askew.

"What am I doing here?" he moaned. "This isn't how it was supposed to be."

Severus gazed across the roomful of mourners. "Nothing ever is," he said quietly.

"Sev." Harry turned to his bondmate, looking him directly in the eye. "I'm screwing everything up. I ought to just leave. I mean, what do I need my NEWT's for anyway?"

Startled, Severus looked back at him. "You're talking about dropping out of Hogwarts," he said, his tone somewhere between flat statement and disbelieving question.

Harry nodded.

The taller man shook his head slightly. "It'll never happen, Harry."

"Why not? There's nothing to be gained by me staying here. I have your memories—you got straight O's on your exams. I'm fully trained. Hogwarts doesn't have anything more to offer me."

"What are you running away from, Harry?" Severus glared at him, his voice as hard as his look.

Harry could feel him trying to see into their bond. He wanted to let him in, to let him figure out what was happening to him. _Please, God, someone figure it out…_ But another pain stabbed through his head and he could not open his bond, could not voice his answers, could not let anyone into the blackness that was taking over his life.

He had to get out. How could he stay when he was hurting so many people?

"Nothing," he said vaguely. "I'm not running away from anything. I just… Everything so messed up right now. I just don't see the point."

Severus sighed deeply and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "The point," he said slowly, "Is that leaving won't fix anything. The point is that you can make it through your last five months as a student. The point is that if you left, you would leave behind your friends and family to sort through this chaos alone, and you owe it to them to _be here_."

Harry feared briefly at his bondmate's inflection that he was going to push the issue of Harry being here. But he said no more. It wasn't that Harry didn't want to talk about it… he just… lost track of what was happening around him whenever anyone tried. There was just pain, taking up everything. People continued to talk to him like he was saying something back, but Harry could never remember saying anything back.

Again and again, people asked him where he'd been. There were gaps in his memory and he couldn't even think about there being gaps in his memory. There was no explanation for it all. Harry was disappearing.

_He was disappearing. _

He acknowledged the fact without ever considering it, or even consciously noting it. It was there in the background, looming over him, tainting everything with uncertainty, and making everyone he loved hate him.

He didn't want to stay. He wanted to leave it all behind and at least be gone completely so that no one had to worry about when he'd vanish next. But he looked at Severus and thought about what he'd said—the chaos that he would leave behind. So maybe he couldn't be a great friend, but he could be there.

Most of the time, anyway.

XIXIX

A few weeks later, February dawned and a snowstorm kept the students stranded in the castle for over a week. Harry was beginning to feel particularly claustrophobic. The atmosphere within the castle—and especially among his group of friends—was really starting to get to him.

He stared out the window in his room, feeling particularly alone but not really knowing what to do about it. Draco was on duty right now. Ginny was in the Great Hall with a few people from SWAN. Or maybe she was with that guy… Harry couldn't determine exactly through their bond what she was up to. Just where she was, and that she was okay. She still kept him shut out for the most part.

He hadn't seen Ron or Hermione today. They would either be in Hermione's Head Girl quarters or in the library. Harry couldn't imagine Hermione wasting a perfectly good Saturday by not studying, so he decided to head down and at the very least try to sit a table in silence with them and read a book.

But when he got there, he only found Hermione. She was surrounded by a larger-than-normal stack of books and parchments, and seemed to be trying to absorb knowledge at a super-human rate. Harry slid into the seat across from her, and leaned a little to his left so that he could view her between to stacks of tomes.

"You don't actually have to know everything for your NEWT's," he said, trying for light.

Hermione glared at him. "Not all of us have the advantages you have," she muttered, turning back to her reading.

"Hermione—" he began apologetically.

"Leave it, Harry. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm just a little on edge right now."

Harry shoved one of the stacks to the side. "What's going on?"

"Ron," she grumbled.

When she made no effort to further explain, Harry prompted. "Ron… what?"

She looked up and set a penetrating glare on Harry, as though judging something. Finally deciding… whatever… she made a face. "Do you know what his research is?"

"Ahm… About the magical creatures?"

She nodded.

"Not exactly. Why? What is it?"

Hermione let out an exasperated breath. "That's just it! I don't know. Nobody does, except for Ron. And that… woman on Dr. Monroe's research team."

"Hermione, you're not jealous, are you?" Harry was very proud of himself that he managed not to laugh just then.

"No!" she shot. "Not like that, anyway. I don't think there's—at least, Merlin, I hope there's nothing going on between them like that. It's just, why won't he talk to me about this? He always used to come to me whenever there was a question of research. But he won't tell me a thing about it now. I don't understand what's changed."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe he just wants to do something on his own for a change."

"That's what he says," Hermione admitted doubtfully. "But I think there's something more."

"Something more, like what?" asked Harry, trying not to be alarmed by the hint of conspiracy in Hermione's tone. As upset as she seemed to be, she clearly suspected something dreadful. "He's studying magical animals, 'Mione. How much trouble could he be in?"

"It's not just magical animals, Harry. It's _which_ magical animals he's studying. I mean, he spends so much time with Hagrid's Thestrals. And I found a book in his room called _Vampires, Zombies, and Other Creatures of the Night_. I think he's studying death magic."

Harry's heart began to pound. Ron couldn't be turning into a dark wizard. Even after everything he's been through. He just couldn't.

"Hermione, I need you to think about what you're implying here."

"I'm implying that I don't know if Ron's in trouble, or if he's just trying to come to grips with his brothers' deaths. Because at first I thought he was just trying to come to terms with…" she dropped her voice to barely a whisper, "Having killed Percy. And then after Bill died, he seems to have redoubled his focus on his research. He hardly does anything else anymore."

"Well, it's normal to be upset after losing two brothers like that." Harry was struggling to make better sense of what his friend was up to than what Hermione seemed to think.

"But Harry, what if he's gone too far? Or what if he's about to go too far, and we don't stop him?"

"Or what if he's only studying Thestrals? And he's being so secretive because he just wants to be left alone?"

Hermione chewed her lip. "Then he's pushing me away because he doesn't want to be with me anymore."

"Hermione, that's not what—"

"That's what the options are, Harry. I've been over this and over this. Either he's hiding from me that he's doing something terrible, or he's just hiding from me. And maybe we haven't talked about what's going to happen after we graduate, but damn it, if I have a choice at all in the matter, I choose to be with Ron!"

Harry looked at his friend long and hard, thinking of their options, thinking of the implications of pursuing each option. Finally, he decided that if worse really did come to worse, he couldn't live with himself if he did nothing.

"What do you want to do?"

XIXIX

"I don't know what's going on with my friends anymore," he complained to Draco later that evening. They were in the Great Hall, poking at their desserts after most of the students had long since finished eating.

"Really," said Draco dryly, swirling the cream into his chocolate mousse. "I'm surprised."

Harry sighed. Draco's sarcastic arsehole routine was less charming lately than bitter. He'd been like that since winter break—cold and distant. Harry knew the blonde was struggling to find reasons to stay together, so he tried not to let the ever-present edge in Draco's voice get to him. He wouldn't let Draco provoke him into a fight that might be their last. He would give him no reason to leave… well.

No _more_ reasons.

"And who is that guy Ginny's always around?" he asked. "Is he in SWAN?"

Draco cut him a look that bordered on truly angry glare. "The Slytherin?" he said.

"Yeah."

"Tall, dark hair, blue eyes?"

"Yeah."

Draco snorted and stood up from the table. Without pausing to wait, he strode from the hall. Harry hurried after him.

"What?" Harry tried to keep the whine out of his voice, but he really didn't know what he had done to deserve being walked out on.

"You really don't know who he is?" Draco asked flatly.

"No. She won't talk to me. How could I know who he was?"

Draco stopped abruptly. He met Harry's eye. His face was set in a hard expression. "It's her boyfriend," he said. "His name is Lokstavian Azghard. His father deals in unplottable real estate. And I can't believe you don't know this about your twin."

Harry turned red, embarrassed and ashamed, and a little angry. "I, well…" he stumbled over his tongue, struggling for excuses. "I thought he might be. I see them together all the time."

Draco raised his eyebrows, giving Harry an extremely unimpressed look.

"Yes, you'll notice how he's there for her."

Harry gritted his teeth. "How can I be there for her," he ground out, "When she won't even talk to me?"

Draco's eyes flashed and Harry saw it coming. Draco's half-closed fist connected with his jaw. "You stupid arse!" he shouted, then turned on his heel and stormed off. Harry stared after him, wondering what he had done to deserve _that_. Why was he always two steps behind nowadays?

He played the conversation over in his head, rubbing his aching jaw.

You'll notice how he's there for her… Ginny's boyfriend was there for her… when Draco's boyfriend wasn't.

Shit.

Harry stared at the wall, wondering what to do. Last year, Ginny would have popped into his head with brilliant relationship advice, told him exactly what to, and he would have snapped at her, and then done it, and she would be right, and he'd thank her later…

That was how it was supposed to happen.

But Ginny's voice never came to tell him what to do. He could feel her through their bond. She was in the library, studying. She was… almost happy. This Lokstavian guy must be with her. There for her. Harry stood in the middle of the hallway doing nothing—his twin pissed off at him and his boyfriend pissed off at him, and his best friend perhaps on the verge of becoming a dark wizard, and his other best friend trying to figure out how to stop him.

And Harry did nothing.

"I can't go on like this," he said to himself. "I can't do this anymore."

He turned toward Draco's quarters and began to walk. "I can't let it be like this." He took off at a run.

When he reached the portrait door to Draco's rooms, he gasped, "Calliste," panting and out of breath. His heart thudded in his chest, but it felt more like fear than fatigue; he hadn't run that far, after all. He shook his head in frustration; he had to get his emotions under control.

The portrait door swung open and Harry stepped in tentatively, forestalling their confrontation while he pulled himself together a bit. With all the strain their relationship was under, Harry couldn't risk being emotional in front of Draco. He didn't want to accidentally say something wrong, and ruin everything. Not when there might be a chance they could still get through all of this.

Draco was sitting at his desk, writing a letter. He glanced up to Harry only very briefly, but Harry saw the redness in his eyes.

"Go away," he said.

Harry took a few steps forward. "No."

Draco hurriedly finished the sentence he was writing and packed up his correspondence before Harry had a chance to read it.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly. He stood up and looked Harry in the eye, reining in his emotions, giving Harry his very best mask.

Harry matched it with one of his own—a useful piece of Severus that Harry had not yet had to use when dealing with his boyfriend. He regretted that he had to hide himself so, but this was important.

"I have something to tell you," Harry said.

"Well, go on then."

Harry took a slow breath, and swallowed. "I'm here," he said.

Draco scoffed and looked away.

"I mean it, Draco," said the Gryffindor. "I'm here."

"You call this being here?" asked Draco incredulously. He mouthed a few soundless words and then began to pace. He made the length of the room twice, periodically looking up at Harry as though to continue, but the words would not come.

Finally, Harry broke. "Draco," he said. Draco stopped his pacing and turned to him. But the Gryffindor didn't know what else to say. He couldn't think of anything that wouldn't lead to a fight, that wouldn't lead to more questions, that wouldn't lead to him being in pain and Draco screaming at him and then never speaking to him again.

So instead he went to the blonde. "I'm here," he said again. He reached out and tentatively touched Draco's arm. Draco looked away.

"I'm here."

"No you're not, Potter."

"I am."

Harry took a step closer, moved his hand to Draco's side.

"Go away," Draco whispered. But he didn't himself move.

Harry leaned in, ran his lips over Draco's neck, and whispered into his ear, "No." He ran his hand up Draco's side, slid it around to his back, dropped his other hand down to Draco's waist, stepped closer still. He could feel Draco's arousal against him, but still the blonde had not moved.

"Please, Draco," he said.

Draco didn't look up, but he nodded slightly. He reached up and began to very methodically unbutton Harry's robes between them. Harry kissed his neck and Draco groaned, ripping the rest of the buttons open with a feral sort of growl.

"You want this, Potter?" he spat, pushing Harry back. "You want me?"

Harry nodded, let himself be shoved onto the bed, let Draco climb on top of him. The blonde's eyes were passionate, were aroused, were furious. "I want you, Draco," he said. He would beg.

But Draco didn't ask him to. He straddled Harry and made quick work of pulling off his robes. Harry reached up to undo his undershirt, but Draco grabbed his wrists and pinned them down over Harry's head. He adjusted his grip so that his left hand clamped both of Harry's together, and opened the fastenings on his shirt with his right.

Harry kissed along his jaw and Draco turned into it, dragging teeth across lips, his tongue sloppy and insistent and Harry whimpered, needy and uncertain and afraid and _Oh God yes_… Draco wrapped his hand around his erection and Harry wanted this so bad, wanted _him_ so bad.

"I'd die without you," he hissed, and Draco growled again.

"Shut up and roll over." He flashed a wild grin. "Your arse is mine."

Harry eagerly complied, moaning as Draco brutally prepped him, calling out as Draco slammed into him again and again, gripping his hips with iron claws, digging nails into skin, screaming and pounding, and letting go completely, letting it all out. And Harry took it, took it all.

They collapsed onto each other, sweating and panting and sated. And they lay there, mingling with each other, sore and smelling of sex.

And Draco refused to be the first to speak. Because maybe Harry had come to him, but he needed to know how far Harry would go for him now. He needed Harry to prove he was willing to change, willing to make up for everything he'd done. He needed Harry to be like he had been before.

And Harry lay there in silence, afraid to screw up this tenuous reconciliation by saying something wrong. He draped his arm lazily across his boyfriend's torso, and stayed with him. Eventually, he began to drift.

When he woke, Draco had already gone down to dinner.

XIXIX

XIX

X

Happy holidays to everyone, and a special thanks to everyone who extended their support and condolences to me and my family in our time of loss. It really means a lot to me.

Peace,

Kati


	12. Friday the Thirteenth

X

XIX

XIXIX "Friday the Thirteenth" XIXIX

Death Eater Terror in Ukraine! 

_**2 Dead, 6 Injured in SWAN-Related Attack**_

_Friday the 13th dawned with cold violence this morning in Kryvyy Rih_, reports Daily Prophet journalist Willa Raspberry_. The sound of explosions and screams woke the sleeping town just before 4am. By the time the local Aurors arrived, the responsible Death Eaters had fled the scene, leaving the Dark Mark to scorch the sky. The bookstore under attack was left in burning ruins. _

_The bodies of shop owner Hanna Drabczak_ _and her four-year-old daughter were found inside after the fires were abated. Drabczak_ _was an outspoken political activist, Wizard-Muggle Ambassador, and a member of the highly controversial organization SWAN. During early attempts to rescue the two from the burning building, six neighbors were injured from heat and smoke inhalation. All six are expected to make a full recovery._

_Ukrainian officials have yet to comment on the connection of the violence to Hogwarts-based SWAN, or its leaders Ginny Weasley and Neville Underlong. Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore is similarly closed-lipped about the allegations that Death Eater spies within the school are being aided and supplied by SWAN. However, recently re-elected Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge vows he will create a task force to look into these serious accusations._

"Oh, this is _bullshit_!" shouted Ron, slamming his fist on the table. Hermione startled and laid down the Daily Prophet. "What the fuck do they mean accusing Ginny of helping Death Eaters into Hogwarts!"

"I don't know," said Hermione quietly. "They're going after her like she's a political rival. I just don't understand what Fudge is playing at."

"Who says it's Fudge?" growled Lokstavian from his girlfriend's side. "Seems to me it's this journalist Willa Raspberry who has it in for her."

"The Prophet is in Fudge's right front pocket," snapped Harry from Ginny's other side. "They report what he wants them to report."

"You can't know that for sure," began Lokstavian, but Ron cut him off.

"Trust us," he said darkly. "We've got a little experience with the media."

Lokstavian made a face. "But what possible reason could the Minister of Magic have to defame a sixth year student, no matter what her ties?"

Hermione looked thoughtfully between Harry and Ginny, wondering just that. "Maybe he sees Harry as the political threat," she said. "But Harry's still too much the hero of the day for Fudge to be able to start another smear campaign against him."

Harry bristled. "Do you think it would help if I made some strong public statement of Ginny's innocence in this matter? If I made a big show of how only an idiot would believe SWAN could be involved with the last of the Death Eaters?"

"It might," said Hermione. "I can write to Rita Skeeter. She's been looking for a story recently."

"Don't bother."

It was a quiet voice, flat and angry, and the first time Ginny had spoken since Hermione opened the Prophet that morning. She and Neville had both sat in silence while Hermione read the article, and during the surrounding argument.

"I'm disbanding SWAN," she said. Neville nodded. They looked across the table at each other, reaching their agreement.

Ron dropped his jaw incredulously. "But… Ginny, you can't let them win."

Ginny looked at him sharply. "I'm not fighting, Ron," she said. "The war is over, and I'm done with fighting. I started SWAN to help the wizarding world recover. But we've been under verbal attack from the Ministry since the beginning. And Hera's wrath! Hanna's dead now. She was one of our biggest overseas supporters."

"But that didn't really have to do with SWAN," argued Hermione softly. "She was a political activist and a Wizard-Muggle Ambassador. There were so many other reasons for Death Eaters to…"

"She was my friend," Ginny interrupted. "Or anyway, I knew her. And liked her. And respected her. I can't do this again."

"We should call everyone together today," said Neville. "Let them know what happened and that we're disbanding. We should probably, I don't know, send flowers or something. Her mom was sick, wasn't she? This isn't going to be easy for her."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," said Ginny. "Let's find out if there's anything she needs. That could be our last act as an organization."

XIXIX

That afternoon, Harry was pacing outside the Room of Requirement. Inside, SWAN was meeting for the last time. Because Ginny had kept Harry's involvement with SWAN to an absolute minimum, he didn't feel he ought to be inside now. She had always wanted the group to be separate from him, to have something in her life that did not involve her inconsistent and unreliable twin.

But now that too was failing. Harry could do nothing to help, and Ginny didn't seem to particularly want his solace, so he waited outside, pacing.

"Harry—there you are. Hermione said I might find you here… although, she seemed to think you might be _inside_ the room."

Harry turned to his boyfriend, pulling on a calm and non-confrontational mask. No arguments. No fights. No conflicts. It was the only way to hold onto him. He covered his worries and frustrations, and faced Draco with all the ease of a person with no problems. Or emotions, for that matter.

"What's going on?" he said.

"I was going to ask you that," said Draco. "You weren't in class today."

Harry grunted, nodding. "You weren't at breakfast. You saw the Prophet?"

"Yeah. Hell of a thing. Ginny okay?"

"Not really." He glanced toward the door to the Room of Requirement.

Draco leaned against the wall. "Rumor has it she's disbanding SWAN. Is that what's happening inside?"

Harry nodded, leaning back next to his boyfriend, glad for this moment of reprieve after a long day. Ginny and Neville had spent the whole day writing letters to SWAN members throughout the world, sad and angry and defeated, while Harry sat nearby, unable to help at all. There was nothing for him to do except be there. He'd never felt so insufficient.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I know this is probably the wrong time, but I also know you'll probably spend the rest of the day with Ginny…"

"What is it?"

"What are we doing tomorrow?" asked Draco with a careful voice.

A flash of ice-cold panic hit Harry in the stomach. He kept his face neutral.

"It's Valentine's Day," Draco continued slowly. "And a Hogsmeade weekend."

Harry blinked, very slowly.

"If you don't want to do anything," Draco swallowed, "Then that's… that's fine. It's just…. Tell me. Don't keep avoiding me until the day has passed. Just tell me one way or the other."

Harry nodded, but didn't look at him.

'I can't tell you, Draco, because I don't know. I can't tell you I'm afraid It might happen again,' he thought, and was very careful not to think about what '_It_' was.

But he'd paused too long before speaking. Draco continued.

"Look, if you're going to leave again…"

That was _It_. Harry thought about how he was disappearing, and pain flared in his head, scattering his thoughts so that for a moment there was nothing but pain and blackness.

"Right," Draco answered coldly. "None of my business. Sorry. Forgot. I don't know how it slipped my mind that my boyfriend's whereabouts are none of my business!"

"Don't," said Harry. "Please don't. Look, I've just—"

"What? Got a lot on your mind?"

'Not enough,' thought Harry bitterly, and the pain flared again when he tried to think about how much he _couldn't_ think about.

"I don't really like Valentine's Day, Draco," he said quickly, changing his thoughts and easing his headache in the process. And if he was lucky, maybe they'd decide not to do anything and it wouldn't matter if 'It' happened.

"That's fine," said Draco edgily. "But it's also just a day. Can't we go out together, and _not_ celebrate Valentine's Day?"

Harry banged his head back against the wall in frustration before it occurred to him what that gesture might look like from Draco's end of the conversation.

"You don't want to spend the day with me," said the blonde breathlessly.

"No, it's not that," said Harry quickly. "I don't want to make any plans. Can't we just… see what happens?"

Draco took two steps backward. "You don't want to make plans," he said. "Oh gods, Harry. Of all the bullshit excuses I've ever heard in my life… that really…" He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Draco!" Harry began to follow him.

"_Don't_ talk to me!" Draco snapped, without looking back.

Harry froze in his tracks and stared after him. "Oh, fucking hell!"

As his anger threatened to explode, he turned and punched the wall. The magic within him pulsed into his fist, slamming into the wall with all the force of raw emotion. The wall exploded outward, and to Harry's horror, he realized that he had blown a hole into the Room of Requirement—into SWAN's last meeting.

As the dust settled, he found himself staring into Ginny's furious eyes. Then he found himself being punched in the face.

XIXIX

Harry was playing mind games.

The last SWAN meeting had ended abruptly with Harry's loss of control, Ginny had threatened him with unspeakably bad things if he came near her, Harry had repaired the wall, and then he had slumped down to think.

The game was to figure out what he could think about directly, whether and how he could think about other things indirectly, and what exactly he could _do_ about the situation he was in. Because he simply could not go on like this.

'Something has been happening.'

His thoughts were vague and unfocused. He was okay.

'I've been disappearing.'

He doubled over, resting his head on his knees, and began thinking of neutral things until the pain dissipated.

'I'm in the Room of Requirement. I have black hair. I defeated Voldemort. My twin hates me. My boyfriend hates me. My head is killing me.'

The pain flared again, and one last irritated thought made its way through the turmoil in his head, 'God, I can't even think about this pain?'

He groaned and spoke aloud.

"Potions homework. House Elves. Four-foot essay on the theory of transfiguring humanoids into objects. My father was a stag. Hey, I wonder if I have an animagus form."

The pain flared again and Harry thought, 'What the hell?' before dropping that line of thought.

"Okay. The morning Winter Break started." The pain threatened, but he very carefully did not think about his lost time during Winter Break, only about that morning he was set to leave.

"I was packing when Ron went down for breakfast. And then I was…"

A stab shot straight through his head and he moaned, bringing his head straight back against the wall behind him. New pain exploded where his head made contact with the wall, but it felt different. Natural pain. Real pain.

"I can think about the pain in the back of my head," he said aloud. "But the rest…" his thoughts scattered, and he reached up to clutch both temples.

"I was alone that morning," he ground out through clenched teeth, and the pain subsided again. "I was alone after the Quidditch match. I was alone last Hogsmeade weekend. I was alone those days over break."

"I can stay here tomorrow," he said, still speaking aloud. The pain threatened again, but did not quite take over as he skirted the issue of disappearing, by thinking instead about the act of staying.

"I just can't be alone."

Harry stood up, triumphant with this small victory in his mind game. It was something, at least. It was a step.

'Ginny hates me. Draco hates me. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and everyone will be out on dates. Except…"

XIXIX

Severus Snape stormed into Dumbledore's office and slapped the day's newspaper onto his desk. He placed two closed fists on either side of paper and leaned forward, looming over the headmaster.

"It's in the bloody Daily Prophet, Albus!"

"And since when have you placed any import on what was reported in the Daily Prophet?" The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had never been more annoying as he smiled amicably up at the potions professor. "In fact, it seems to me that you have made a recent habit of setting it on fire before even opening it."

Severus sneered and straightened himself, refusing to admit that this morning he had been forced to borrow McGonagall's paper in order to actually read for himself the article that had so upset Harry. He took a deep breath, and tried again.

"Albus," he said through clenched teeth, "You have said yourself that there is someone penetrating the school's wards. And now the Prophet is reporting that there are spies at the school."

"Actually, the Prophet is reporting that there are allegations of spies within the school."

"Oh, read between the bloody lines!" Severus snapped. "Someone has leaked your suspicion of spies, and they're twisting it in order to find a way to discredit Ginny Weasley. You know very well that Fudge has it in for that girl!"

"Severus," said Dumbledore calmly, the twinkle in his eyes fading. "Why don't you have a seat and tell me what is really bothering you?"

The Potions Master remained standing, glaring at the Headmaster with disdain. But nonetheless, he calmed considerably under Dumbledore's even gaze. Finally, he relented.

"I would like you to cancel the Hogsmeade weekend," he said.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah," he said, understanding everything, to Severus' further annoyance. "You fear that Harry is going to disappear again."

Severus looked away, refusing to nod or admit that that was his true concern.

"Severus," Dumbledore began in a placating tone that told the Professor he was not going to get his way. Severus didn't want to hear excuses. He interrupted.

"Has there been a problem with the wards while he has been away? Over the break, for instance, or during the weekend after the Gryffindor-Slytherin match?"

The Headmaster sighed and shook his head.

"Someone's watching him, Albus. Something is going to happen, and the Ministry is going to find a way to make it seem as though it comes from within the school."

"And I will remind you again that Harry is more than capable of taking care of himself. There is not a more powerful being on this planet."

"I know that," barked Severus, wounded that Albus felt the need to remind him of this. "But he's not been himself lately. I don't want anything to happen to him while he's not paying attention."

"You mean when you are not paying attention." Dumbledore stared him down over his half-moon spectacles and Severus decided to take that seat after all.

"I can't protect him, Albus. I don't understand what he's going through. I don't even understand what he is doing with the bond when he disappears. I can't feel him at while he's gone. He could be dead and I wouldn't even know it."

"It is not your fault, Severus. And it is also not up to you to protect him."

"Then who is it up to?"

"It is up to Harry."

Severus sighed deeply, and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. Of course it was up to Harry. It wasn't his responsibility at all. It was just that Harry was so _different_ lately. He had been acting so strange, and for no discernible reason. Severus felt so helpless.

"He'll come to you when he is ready."

'Sev?'

Severus sat up, suddenly feeling guilty, as though Harry had caught him in the act of trying to protect him. As though Severus ought to feel ashamed for trying.

'What is it, Harry?' he thought back.

'Can I talk to you, when you have a moment? Like, soon?'

'Meet me in my quarters,' he thought, and Harry's presence melted from his mind.

Severus stood. "Yes, of course," he said curtly to the headmaster. "Now if you will excuse me."

Dumbledore nodded, watching Severus leave with a twinkle in his eye.

XIXIX

Harry had said he would help her, Hermione reminded herself, trying to convince herself that it was not unreasonable to ask her friend to give up some of his Valentine's Day.

Ron had told her that he would spend the day with her, but that he had an evening meeting with Angela, his research contact.

"Why are you meeting her on Valentine's Day?" Hermione had asked.

"Because it's a Hogsmeade weekend. This way I'll be _permitted_ to leave the school, so I don't have to worry about my girlfriend giving me a detention for sneaking out in order to further my career."

Hermione had glared at him, but ultimately had agreed to let him go.

So now she needed Harry to help her follow him and spy on his meeting so she could determine what exactly it was he was researching.

She went to first most likely place he would be—Draco's rooms. She knew Draco didn't have rounds this evening, and she also knew that Harry had spent the day skipping classes in order to spend time with Ginny. He and Draco would very likely want to be alone, but she'd just have to apologize for interrupting. It was nearly dinnertime anyway.

But when she entered the hall that lead to Draco's rooms, she met him coming the other way, alone.

"Draco."

"Granger."

Hermione huffed, and Draco cracked a bit of a smile.

"Malfoy," she said pointedly, "Where's your boyfriend?"

Draco's features darkened. "We're fighting," he said diplomatically, rather than admitting he wasn't entirely sure whether or not he had broken up with him several hours back.

Hermione sighed and fell into step next to him. "Jeez," she said. "What about, this time?"

"Valentine's Day," Draco said with false lightness. "Harry tells me he doesn't like to make plans, so maybe we could _just see what happens_."

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "Meaning he has plans to take off again. Typical. Men can be such arses."

"Hey!" whined the Slytherin. "I'm a man."

"And you can be an arse, too."

Draco considered this, and had to agree.

"Anyway, what are you and Ron doing?"

"You mean _before_ his big research meeting that he scheduled for tomorrow evening?"

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked at her. Hermione nodded.

"Yep," he sighed, "Men are arses."

He slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder and they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. Hermione considered asking him for help in spying on Ron, but decided she really wanted as few people involved with this as possible. At least until she had more information.

Neville and Ginny were already at the Gryffindor table when Hermione and Draco approached. Draco plopped himself into the seat next to Ginny.

"Hey," he said, bumping his shoulder into hers. "I heard the news. You okay?"

Ginny nodded. "You?"

Draco furrowed his brow. "I didn't know the woman."

"No, I mean, with Harry. Your fight."

"Oh. Did he say anything to you about it?"

Ginny snorted. "No. But he _did_ blast a hole the size of a Quaffle through the wall of the Room of Requirement."

"What!"

Neville nodded. "Ginny punched him in the face for it."

"Yeah," agreed Ginny, "And I told him to stay the hell away from me. I mean, I know he didn't mean to. He just sort of lost control—didn't even realize what he was doing until he'd done it, but still."

"He's gotta get himself under control," murmured Neville angrily. "Someone could have gotten hurt."

"The thing is, I'm not even all that mad at him," said Ginny. "I just really didn't feel like putting up with his bullshit. Not today. I guess I shouldn't have punched him, though."

"Don't apologize," said Draco. "I'm sure he deserved worse, blowing up SWAN's last meeting, and all."

Ginny grimaced and looked away. "Anyway," she said, "It must have been some fight. He's gone to hide in Snape's quarters."

"What?" Draco's vision clouded for a moment.

Hermione leaned around Neville. "Is he coming to dinner?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't spoken to him."

"Would you ask?"

Ginny regarded Hermione for a moment and realized there was some importance behind her query. She was silent for a moment while she contacted Harry through her bond. While they spoke, she glanced over at Draco, whose face had taken on a rather stony appearance.

Ginny frowned.

Draco looked at her. "What?"

"He said he's staying there."

"Until what time?" asked Hermione.

Ginny looked at Draco. "Tomorrow night. I told him it wasn't a very good idea, but he seems to think it is."

"Well," said Draco, sitting back in his seat.

"Is he allowed to do that?" asked Neville. "Stay in a teacher's quarters overnight?"

"He's Harry," said Hermione, disappointment thick in her tone. "I'm sure he can." She turned back to Ginny. "I really do need to talk to him, though. Do you think it would be alright if I went down there?"

Ginny shook her head once. "I don't know, 'Mione. He sounded kind of strange. And his thought patterns are… I don't know… _off_."

Draco stood up. "I am going to go dine with my House," he announced. "I need a little normalcy that you Gryffindors just don't seem capable of offering me at the moment."

Three Gryffindor glares hit his back as he walked away.

XIXIX

"Can you ward your door so that I can't leave without your expressed permission?"

"Why would I do that?"

Harry made a face. "Just… can you do that?"

Severus considered the odd request. "I don't think so, Harry," he said.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, you're more powerful than I am. And that's not even getting into the legalities of holding a student in my quarters in a manner that could be perceived as though it were against his will."

"But you're my bondmate."

"But that is not exactly common knowledge. And may I ask what has upset you so?"

"No."

Severus sighed. "Harry…"

"I said, No."

Harry was walking in circles around the professor's quarters. He was clearly distracted by something, apparent among other things by the absence of his annoyingly regular habit of posing all questions and arguments as though he knew exactly how Severus was going to respond. That he had asked what Severus was capable of, rather than just thinking about it, was unsettling to the older man.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Harry stopped pacing and looked at him. "I want to stay here," he said.

"Okay."

"No, I—" Harry made a face. "There's more. I want to stay here. And I want you to not ask questions."

"Nothing new," said Severus flatly.

"And um… Stay in contact with me, as long as I'm here."

Severus furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, be where you can see me. Always. The whole time I'm here."

"And do you plan to stay here until curfew?"

Harry chewed his lip, and continued pacing the perimeter of the room. "I plan to stay here until tomorrow night," he said. "Are you free?" he added quickly. "Can you stay with me? It's very important, or I wouldn't ask."

Severus intercepted his path. "I'm sure it's important," he said, looking Harry hard in the eye, looking for signs of poisoning or drug overdose. His pupils were not dilated, although he was clearly agitated, his eyes darting away from his.

"No questions," said Severus, rather than asking any one of the millions of questions that sprang to mind, first and foremost of which was 'Which symptoms am I supposed to be monitoring you for?'

Harry looked at him, finally holding his eye for an extended moment. "You'll do it, then?" he asked. "No questions?"

"You knew I would, or you wouldn't have come here."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I knew you would."

Severus opened his mind, touched into Harry's consciousness. Harry resisted at first, but then he opened up to him.

"That's probably a good idea," he said. "Will you keep your bond open to me while I'm here?"

"That was my plan," Severus replied, becoming more concerned by the moment. He could see no visible symptoms for Harry's erratic behavior. Whatever he had ingested to make him decide to place himself under the Potions Master's supervision was going to be hard to detect if he could ask no questions, Harry would volunteer no information, and the only visible symptom was agitation.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes," said Harry, moving into the sitting area. "I brought my homework too, so don't feel like you have to entertain me."

Severus frowned at Harry's back, and followed him. "I suppose Draco will go to Hogsmeade alone tomorrow, or with friends." He was careful to voice his probe as a statement and not a question.

"I suppose," said Harry. "I'll see him tomorrow night if I'm around." He winced suddenly. Severus knelt before him.

"Do you have another headache?"

"I'm fine."

Severus rather doubted that.

XIXIX

Two hours and two pots of tea later, Severus set aside the essays he had been grading and headed to the bathroom.

Harry looked up from his homework. "Where are you going?"

Severus paused and turned, inclining his head toward the bathroom door.

"I'll come with you," said Harry, standing as well.

"Mr. Potter, I am quite capable of managing the privy by myself."

Harry's mouth flattened into a straight line. "You agreed to stay in contact with me at all time."

Severus' eyes widened slightly. "I'll just be in the next room," he said.

"Not good enough. You have to be able to see me at all times." Harry looked away. "At least," he said, "I think it might… Well, that's what you agreed to, at any rate."

"Harry…" He sighed. "No questions."

"No questions."

Severus stood there, feeling rather helpless and out of sorts. He truly did not understand what was going on. "I'll leave the door open," he compromised, "But you are not coming with me into the washroom."

"It's not like you have anything I haven't seen before, Sev. I mean, I kind of _was_ you, you know."

Severus sneered. "I would never say, 'I kind of was you, you know'."

Harry grinned. "I'll stand over there so you can see me." He moved to the opposite wall and began inspecting a crack in the stone's mortar. The professor stared at him for a moment without moving. "Go on," Harry urged. "This wall really isn't all that interesting. I'm just pretending."

Severus strode into the bathroom. "I'm setting a silencing charm. Is that acceptable?"

"It is. Just watch me to make sure I'm still…" Harry trailed off and ran both hands through his hair, seeming to grip his head as he did so. His bond with Severus abruptly closed.

"Harry?"

"I'm fine. Go on."

XIXIX

Severus Snape was not sleeping, as aware as he was of the warm body on the bed next to him, shoulder touching shoulder. Harry had insisted that if they were to sleep, they must be touching—there had to be some way for the bondmates to always be in contact.

"I'm making you uncomfortable," Harry had said.

"Yes." There was no reason to deny what Harry could plainly feel through their bond.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." Severus could feel the sincerity of his apology through the bond just as easily.

"It's important to me," Harry had repeated.

"I know. But I won't pretend to understand why."

Harry had nodded, had said 'Thank you,' had climbed into bed with him, touching him, and there they had lain. Awake.

"Sev."

"Hm."

"I'm going to the bathroom."

"Okay." Severus turned on his side so that he could watch him go. They were bondmates, he told himself. These strange intimacies should not feel so strange. It was just that Harry had been so far away for so long, even when he was in the room right next to him. And now, laying in bed together, he still had no idea what had brought Harry to his room for this 24-hour expanse of time.

But even with all of his concerns, Severus had to admit he was somewhat relieved to know that Harry would not be going anywhere this Hogsmeade weekend. He was comforted to know that Harry was safe, that Harry was where Severus could keep an eye on him.

Harry relieved himself and returned to bed. Severus lay back on his back and stared at the darkened ceiling.

"We had another fight."

Severus looked over. "Who?"

"Me and Draco. Well, me and Ginny, too, although she's not really too upset about it anymore. Other more important things on her mind, you know?"

"Hm."

"Well, we're not sleeping. Would you rather lay in silence?"

Severus let out a long breath. "No. Tell me about it."

Harry closed himself off again through their bond and he moved slightly on the bed. "I can't." His voice sounded like he was in pain.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure. He doesn't accept compromises, does he?"

"Draco Malfoy? Accept a compromise? No."

"I want him to be happy."

Severus looked back up to the ceiling. "Then make him happy."

Harry was silent for a long time before saying, "I don't know if I can do that."

There was no more that could be said, so the two men lay there. Eventually, they did begin to drift. Severus awoke in the morning to find Harry's arm flung across his chest and his own arm asleep under his bondmate. He carefully disentangled himself and rose, making himself a very strong cup of tea.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: So, news is that A Boy, Lost has been nominated for the Quills Contest in the Best Angst category! I'm so thrilled, I can't even tell you. I've read through stories in the Quills Contest the last couple of years, and I have to tell you that it has been a great resource for me to find really great stories. So that someone deemed my story worthy to sit among its ranks is just… wow. The Quills Contest can be found at http// www. geocities. com/ dragonhidequills/ (just take out the spaces)

Thank you to whomever it was who nominated ABL.

Also, stayed tuned for the next chapter of Ties That Bind, in which:

-Draco gets himself into some trouble

-Hermione goes to spy on Ron

-Harry endeavors to make it through a Hogsmeade weekend without disappearing, or thinking about it for that matter

-The Ministry comes to Hogwarts for…?

Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers!


	13. Another Krummy Valentine's

X

XIX

XIXIX "Another Krummy Valentine's" XIXIX

"Who are you waiting for?" asked Ron.

"Mm?" Hermione realized she'd been staring at the door. She turned back to her boyfriend and her breakfast. "No one," she said lamely.

"Doesn't look like 'no one'," said Ginny with a hint of a smile. "You've been watching the door like a hawk."

"If I didn't know better," added Ron slyly, "I'd say you were up to something."

Hermione fought down a blush, realizing that she was being far too obvious. Where was her head? She was supposed to be cleverer than this. What good would it be to enlist Harry's help in following Ron if she were just going to draw a whole lot of attention to her spying anyway?

She sighed, and decided to give a version of the truth.

"I was hoping Harry would come to breakfast," she said.

"Not likely." Ginny sighed as well. "You seen Draco? He's never going to forgive Harry for this one."

"Yeah." Hermione glanced at Ron, and connected neat little parallels in her mind between Harry's holing up with Snape, and Ron scheduling a business meeting on Valentine's Day. She wondered briefly if she should bring that up, when the door to the Great Hall opened again. Hermione looked over.

"Viktor!" she gasped, and jumped to her feet. Viktor Krum, in full Bulgarian dress robes, stood in the doorframe sizing up the Hall. When he saw her, he smiled and strode forward.

Ginny and Lokstavian eyed Ron warily as the red-faced Gryffindor gaped at the approaching Bulgarian.

"Hello, Hermoninny," he said when he reached the table. He kissed her hello in a decidedly friendly manner, but through his jealousy, Ron was in no way prepared to admit as much. He pulled himself to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione and Ron both asked at the same time, albeit in very different tones of voice. Hermione cut Ron a glare over her shoulder.

Viktor caught the jealousy fuming from Ron and the corners of his mouth twitched. "I am here to meet vith Professor Dumbledore," he said. "But I am very glad I get to see you first. I vas afraid you vould be gone already to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day."

Ron put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. "Yes, **_we_** were just going to go. But it was so good to see you," he added dryly. He began to lead Hermione away, but Hermione stood firm.

"We have a few minutes," she said pointedly. "Viktor, I haven't seen you in forever. How have you been?"

Ron's jaw dropped. Viktor smiled.

"I have been vell. I have retired from Quidditch, and am looking for a more permanent career."

"You quit Quidditch?" asked Ron, his jealousy suddenly forgotten. "Why?"

"I like less excitement since the var. And I have enough money now that I can do vhatever I vant vith my life. It is nice, yes?"

"Sounds like it," said Hermione with a smile. "Is that what you're meeting with Dumbledore about?"

Viktor nodded his head. "And vhat about you? Vhat vill you do after you graduate this summer?"

Hermione glanced at Ron, then around the room. "I'm not sure yet," she said. "There's a lot to decide."

"Of course," he said. He glanced up at the head table where Dumbledore sat smiling. "You should write me sometime. It is good to see you."

"You too, Viktor. I will."

They kissed their friendly goodbyes, and Viktor strode away. Hermione turned to Ron, who was looking at her with angry expectancy.

"Well?" he snapped.

"Well, what?" she snapped back.

"Why didn't you tell me that Vickie was coming to see you on Valentine's Day?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly," she sighed. "Were you not paying attention? I didn't know he was going to be here!"

"Then why were you watching the door?"

"I told you already, I was watching for Harry."

"You can't expect me to believe that!"

Hermione stamped her foot. "Oh, believe whatever you want. I'm done with this conversation!" She turned and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Ron slammed himself back into his seat and tore into his breakfast, grumbling between bites. Ginny and Lokstavian traded looks. Lokstavian raised his eyebrows just slightly, and Ginny caught the glint in his eyes. She nodded infinitesimally to indicate she would go along with whatever it was he was planning.

"The nerve of that guy," he said, glancing up at the head table.

Ron snorted his assent.

"Scheduling a meeting on Valentine's Day, of all days."

Ron dropped his fork. He finished chewing and swallowed heavily. "Look, I am not in the mood for sarcasm right now," he said steadily. "I am not overreacting here. You don't understand the history we have with this guy."

"But I understand, Ron," Ginny said understandingly. Ron glared at her as though he wished she didn't understand at all. Ginny glanced to Lokstavian.

"We're on your side, Ron," he said innocently. "What I'm saying is that it is rather suspicious that he's come here _today_ of all days. Of course he knew it would cause a fight between Hermione… and her boyfriend."

Ron glanced toward the head table.

"All the same," added Ginny, "Shame you and Hermione should be fighting while he's in town. Who knows what could happen?"

"All right, all right," said Ron, heaving himself to his feet. "I get you. I'm going." And he took off out of the Great Hall to find his girlfriend and set about being the perfect boyfriend, for at least as long as Viktor Krum was in town.

Ginny smiled at Lokstavian. "He never listens when it's just me. How did you do that?"

Lokstavian shrugged. "Ron's easy. You just have to know which buttons to push and when."

Ginny let out a breath. "I suppose. Thanks, though."

"For what? I was sparing _us both_ a whole lot of drama." Lokstavian cocked his head to the side. "Look, Ginny, are you okay? We don't have to go out today. I know you've got a lot going on right now, with SWAN and that lady in the Ukraine..."

"It's fine," she said. "I'd rather be doing something, actually."

Lokstavian nodded. "Then let's do something."

XIXIX

Two hours later, while most of the school was starting their day at Hogsmeade, Draco Malfoy was making his way to the library. It was Valentine's Day, his boyfriend had holed up with his godfather, and he wasn't even exactly sure if his boyfriend was still his boyfriend. He still hadn't decided if he had broken up with Harry or not when he had left him the day before.

He figured—_hoped_, maybe—that Harry thought they were broken up, and that was why he had gone to Severus. That Harry was so very heartbroken over Draco that he was sobbing his heart out and incapable of facing Valentine's Day alone. That Severus was offering him advice on how to win back his one true love, and Harry was taking notes.

That Harry was leaning on Severus' shoulder, his face in his neck, distraught and vulnerable and begging for distraction from all the pain of having lost Draco, that soon they would be kissing, or maybe they had already, and had moved on to the bedroom, and Harry would come out of Snape's rooms sated and happy and better off without the dysfunctional blonde…

Draco grunted, mentally smacking himself for thinking that. Of course Harry would never do that—even if it was exactly what Draco would have done in similar circumstances.

But then, if Draco would have done that, _why wouldn't_ Harry do that as well? He was a guy. And they were all fucked up after the war. Who would blame him for moving on so quickly from one pair of loving arms to the next?

'I have homework to focus on,' Draco thought to himself very pointedly. He would not think about Harry and Snape again. He had things to do.

The library turned out to have groups of first and second years scattered throughout it, giggling instead of studying, and being generally annoying with their existence. Madam Pince was busy putting the fear of Athena into one particularly unfortunate group, and Draco imagined she was going to be making the rounds to all of the giggling tables in order to instill the utmost respect for silence in each of them with an impression that would last their entire school career.

Draco had undergone one such encounter his second year, and had had nightmares for weeks. He shuddered, and picked an out-of-the-way table in the back. He threw his bags down and heaved his textbooks out from within. _Moste_ _Potente Potions_ was at the top of the stack. Draco stared at it.

It said, "Harry is shagging Professor Snape _right now_."

Draco closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he quickly shoved the textbook out of sight, and closed his bag up tight around it, just to be safe.

'Arithmancy it is, then,' he thought to himself, and set to work on his latest calculations.

XIXIX

It seemed as though five minutes couldn't have yet passed, but Draco had finished his Arithmancy, Transfigurations, Astronomy, and Divination homework in an almost blind fever. He worked fast and hard so that his thoughts would have absolutely no time to themselves to personify inanimate objects into voicing his anxieties.

His stomach rumbled and Draco checked the time. It was a bit late for lunch, but people still might be in the Hall. _They_ still might be in the Hall, if they had decided to grace the outside of Severus' quarters with their presence. Draco didn't know if he was avoiding the possibility of seeing them in the Hall, or the probability that they wouldn't be there. Both options hurt too much to think about just yet.

"Grow up," he mumbled to himself. "It doesn't matter anyway. Who gives a damn if they're there? It doesn't matter."

Draco shoved his books into his bag, and pulled himself up from his table. He steeled himself as he headed to the Great Hall, preparing himself for what might happen if Harry were there, and if he weren't. Draco couldn't quite imagine anything past running into Harry. He couldn't quite imagine conversations or apologies or big blow up arguments. His gut clenched and it left him cold. Even if he saw Harry, he didn't know what he would say to him.

He paused only a second outside the doors of the Great Hall before pressing himself through. He glanced around with his bored Malfoy air and _did not_ let his disappointment show that no one was there. And suddenly, he felt like screaming. He _wanted_ Harry to be there. He wanted the big blow up argument.

Kyle waved at him from the far end of the Slytherin table where he was sitting alone. Draco moved toward him without thinking. His brain was on a frenzied auto-pilot, focused solely on his impotent fury and heartache. He sat down and didn't say hello. He loaded his plate and began eating as though there were no one there.

"…but the nightmares didn't really start until the Dragon Queen showed me her goblin/unicorn porn collection. It was really only a matter of time before Weird Sisters would ask to write a song about my life."

Draco's brain slowly began to process what Kyle was saying to him. His eyes focused, and he watched his business associate continue his story with deadpan sincerity.

"Of course, by that time I'd already been arrested thrice for impersonating Merlin in a court of law. Not that anyone actually thought I was him, mind you. I'm far too good looking. But at any rate, that's how I discovered Minister Fudge's Merlin impersonator fetish. You see, he came to Azk… I saw that," he interrupted himself suddenly.

Draco looked at him blankly.

"You smiled. You're paying attention now."

Draco flattened his mouth. "I didn't smile," he said.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "The corner of your mouth twitched. That's close enough for a distracted Malfoy. So come on, spill. What's going on?"

He leaned forward expectantly. Draco leaned back. He placed his hands palm down on the table and let out a slow breath.

"Nothing," he said.

Kyle scoffed. "Do you have any idea how long I was talking before you realized what I was saying?" He shook his head and muttered, "Nothing, my arse. What's wrong, Draco?"

"It's none of your damned business, Coyote," Draco said wearily, his words lacking all bite. "What are you doing here anyway? Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"

"No one to go with—Loky's with Ginny, and I've worked very hard to maintain a complete lack of social relationships otherwise. You think my anonymous innocence comes without a price? It's hard work."

Draco shrugged. "Trickster's tragedy."

"Don't mock me. I'm allowing you to change the subject. Be grateful."

"Grateful?" Draco's tone turned cold. "I don't need your company. I don't need you to take pity on me and grant me the time of day…"

"That's not what I meant," Coyote said quickly. "You know how persistent I can be when I want something. But obviously you don't want to talk about it, so I was offering to let it go. I was offering another distraction."

Draco shoved some food into his mouth, glaring at his plate. Kyle took a drink of his pumpkin juice. They sat in silence for some moments, Kyle watching Draco, and Draco watching his plate.

"So, then…" said Kyle slowly. "Anything new from p-cubed?"

"No."

Kyle shrugged helplessly. "Give me something to work with, here," he begged. "How am I supposed to distract you if all you can give me is 'No'?"

Draco looked up. He was not smiling at Kyle's pleading. But another time he might have. It was kind of amusing to watch the boy squirm.

"Do you want to go flying?"

Draco's eyes narrowed as he thought of all the times he'd flown with Harry. He definitely did not want to go flying.

"Hex some first years?"

Draco sniffed. That was so juvenile.

"…Hogsmeade?" asked Kyle as though he were expecting to be punched for the suggestion.

Draco shook his head once.

"Chess, then," said Kyle.

Draco… couldn't think of a reason why not. It must have shown on his face, because Coyote smiled, and pushed on.

"There's that really nice set in the Slytherin common room. I can have some of the house elves… what?"

Draco's stomach had twisted at the thought of going down to the dungeons. What if he ran into _them_? What if they were…

He shook his head before any anxieties could work themselves into proper imaginings. All the same, he wasn't ready for the blow up anymore. He needed more time. He looked up to Kyle.

"I've got a set in my quarters we can use," said Draco. "It's been in my family for generations—one of the few things I have left."

XIXIX

Ginny and Lokstavian were having dinner in Hogsmeade. Neville was working on a Herbology project out in the greenhouses. Luna and Crabbe were eating with the Ravenclaws. Harry had yet to make a reappearance, and Draco was similarly absent. So Ron and Hermione had their usual spot at the Gryffindor table all to themselves come dinnertime.

It _had_ been a nice day, Hermione had to admit. After the one argument they'd had in the morning, Ron had surprised her by being especially nice to her all day, rather than sulking and being irritable like she had expected. It was almost enough to make her forget that he was going to be ditching her that night to go out for a "research meeting" with that Angela woman.

"I'm really sorry, Hermione," he said with his mouth full. He'd been wolfing down his dinner, constantly checking the time. "I wish we could have the rest of the night together. I don't know _what_ I was thinking when I scheduled this meeting."

It was a lie and they both knew it. Not wanting to be hassled by Hermione-the-Head-Girl, he'd chosen to schedule the meeting during the Hogsmeade weekend. He just hadn't counted on being hassled by Hermione-the-girlfriend for taking off on Valentine's Day.

"It's okay, Ron," she said. That was a lie too. But they were both willing to go along with it so as not to ruin a really good day. Hermione had barely begun to eat when Ron finished his dinner and was moving to stand up and leave.

"Hey, can I see you later tonight?" he asked. "I could stop by your rooms when I get b—"

"Hello, Hermoninny."

They both looked over. Ron's face fell.

"Krum," he said. "I hadn't realized you were still here."

"Yes, I am meeting a friend in Hogsmeade later tonight, so I am having dinner here. Are you leaving?"

Ron was, indeed leaving. He had stopped halfway to standing, and was frozen, looking back and forth between the girlfriend he was leaving to eat alone, and her ex-boyfriend who had just shown up for dinner. Talk about awful timing.

"I… er…"

"Yes, Ron's leaving. He has a meeting tonight," said Hermione sweetly, turning to Krum.

"Vould you mind if I joined you for dinner?"

"Not at all," she smiled. She turned to Ron and blushed as a realization hit her. What was she doing? She hadn't even intended to play the jealousy card. And while it might help Ron to keep her in mind when scheduling future meetings, it would almost certainly lead to a fight between them about Viktor. And anyway, she couldn't have Viktor there if she was going to follow Ron.

As the Bulgarian sat down beside her, she continued. "But I can't stay too long. It's getting late, and I… have a lot of homework." It was lame, she knew. It wasn't late at all. But perhaps it would get her intentions across.

"It is not a problem," said Krum. "Vhat meeting do you have, Ron?"

They both turned to look at Ron, who was still frozen in his half-standing position. He snapped back into focus.

"Oh, right, my meeting." He stood all the way. "It's just for this research project I've been working on. Not that interesting. But I do…" he looked between them, "…have to go. I love you, Hermione."

He bent down and kissed her full on the mouth. "I'll see you later tonight."

There was nothing else for it. He had to go. With a quick, hopefully polite, nod to Krum, he turned and exited the Great Hall. It was not lost on Hermione that his hands were clenched into fists, nor that he had tried his hardest to be nice before he left. She smiled.

"Strange time to schedule a research meeting," said Viktor.

Hermione sighed. "Yeah, well… That's Ron for you." She looked at Viktor, and realized that she had to get away very soon. She'd need to get the invisibility cloak and the map and catch up to her boyfriend before he left the grounds. There just wasn't time to spare chatting with an old friend. It would be rude to take off, after basically inviting him to join her, but what else could she do?

"Viktor," she said. "I'm so sorry, but I've just realized something I've got to take care of right now."

"Right now?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Dinnertime on Valentine's Day?"

She blushed, and cast about for a good excuse. "Well, I was working on this potion, and I timed it so the next ingredient would need to be added not too long after Ron left for his meeting. But then when I saw you it slipped from my mind because I was thinking how nice it would be to catch up… but I've really got to go and take care of this because of the potion's… explosive nature." She smiled apologetically, hoping beyond hope he would buy it.

"Ah, Hermoninny. Alvays the academic. Of course it vill be fine if you need to vork on your studies. I know vhat is important to you."

Hermione grinned. "Thanks, Viktor," she said. "It was very good to see you. I'll write you soon, okay?"

"I look forward to your letter," he smiled.

And with that, Hermione dashed away.

Just outside the common room, she cast an illusion charm on herself and crept inside. The smattering of students did not seem to notice the portrait door opening, nor the Hermione-shaped background that moved through the room. Ron was not there, so Hermione slipped up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

She pressed her ear against the 7th year room and held her breath. Not hearing anything inside, she very slowly pushed the door opened, and peered in. The room appeared to be completely empty, so she went inside. She went straight to Harry's trunk, but then froze when she heard a noise behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she realized that the door that connected to the bathroom was open. Someone was in there; it must be Ron. Her heart began to race. If she could throw on the invisibility cloak before he came out, she could just follow him. It was too perfect. She opened the trunk and began to search through it.

"Come on, come on," she whispered under her breath… but it was no use. The cloak and the map were gone. Either Harry had them, or else Ron did. And if Ron had them, then that meant he had anticipated that he might be followed. Hermione sat back in frustration.

"Umm… Is someone there? Ron?"

Hermione turned around and saw Neville standing in the door to the bathroom. He was peering at her as though not quite sure he was really seeing something there. She pulled out her wand and ended her illusion charm.

"Sorry, Neville," she said. "I needed to get something out of Harry's trunk, but I didn't want to alarm anyone by just showing up in the boys' dorm."

"So you concealed yourself instead? Brilliant plan, Hermione," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

Hermione made a face. "You okay, Neville?" It wasn't like him to be sarcastic. He seemed rather irritable.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just… I don't know. Long day, I guess."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Has Ginny come back from Hogsmeade yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "She and Lokstavian are still out." Neville looked away, and then Hermione understood.

As they continued to talk, neither of them noticed when the door slowly crept open again until it was wide enough to let someone through.

XIXIX

Ron left his room, a steady stream of curses floating through his brain. Hermione had been looking for the cloak and the map, he knew it. And she would really only want those in order to follow him.

It was no good at all. Happy though he was that she was not spending time with Krum that evening, the fact remained that she was suspicious enough about what he was doing that she was willing to follow him, spy on him! He couldn't keep doing this. As he made his way out of the castle and toward the Whomping Willow, Ron thought over his options.

He could, of course, just break it off with Hermione and focus on his research and future career—but that hardly seemed like an option. He loved Hermione. And maybe things weren't perfect, but they were certainly not bad enough to warrant a break-up.

And there was also the option of discontinuing his research. But he was learning so much about death through his work with these creatures. And whether or not Ron wanted to admit it, he did feel like he owed it to his brothers, to himself, to learn about the hereafter. He needed to do this. He felt as though something greater than himself were pushing him forward with his research. And he'd accomplished so much already…. No, he couldn't give up his research.

And he really didn't know what options he had left.

He pushed open the trap door that led into the Shrieking Shack and saw that Angela was already waiting for him. He pulled off his invisibility cloak and climbed up.

"Ron! Good, you're here. We have a lot to go over tonight, and I'm actually only going to have two hours instead of three, so if we could get started…"

"Well, actually," Ron scuffed his foot against the floor, and then pulled a chair out to sit across from Angela at the table. "I was wondering if I could ask you for some advice first."

"Does it have to do with your vampire friend? Because I've told you before you oughtn't develop relationships with these creatures. They're not _human_, Ron…"

"No, it's not that. It's actually about my human relationships. My friends… my girlfriend… is suspicious about what I've been doing. She tried to follow me here tonight."

"Well, we're not working on anything extremely sensitive. This is hardly a classified project." Angela gave him a calculating, almost challenging look. Ron had a feeling she knew exactly what he was getting at, but wanted him to say it.

"The thing is, Angela," he said, "I don't feel like it is any of their business to know the nature of the research we've been doing. I don't think they would understand or support experiments with death and dark creatures. But at the same time, I hate keeping secrets from them."

Angela nodded. "There you have it. Ron, you _care_ too much. A researcher has to be detached. Objective. Cold, even. If you're going to join this line of work, you can't bow to the social pressures that surround you. And you know I'm not just talking about the people in your life. I think you've gotten too attached to that Vampire."

Ron stared at the table. It was a conversation they'd had before. Angela thought that he'd gone too far by promising the Vampire that he would try to help with Vampire rights within the wizarding world—or, more to the point, that he had _meant it_ when he said it. But Ron had met with the Vampire several times now. It was a thinking and feeling being. It just didn't seem right that humans always wound up on top, at the expense of the rights of all other creatures.

As though she were reading his mind, Angela continued, "Like I've said… they're not _human_, Ron. And you'll never be a successful researcher if you can't distinguish the differences in your mind. You must be willing to do what is necessary."

_What is necessary…_ Ron sometimes wondered just how far he would have to go.

XIXIX

Harry left Severus' quarters with a feeling of triumph. He'd managed to make it through the day without… you know…

He was getting a little better with the mind games, with figuring out ways to think of certain things without actually thinking about them. So he couldn't think about his disappearances, but he could imply them without being overcome by pain. With time, maybe he'd be able to figure out what was causing it all, and do something about it.

He rubbed his head and let that line of thought go. It was no use pushing things. And for now, he had a plan. It was still Valentine's Day, and Harry figured that if he doted on Draco enough with a great romantic evening, his boyfriend just might forgive him for their argument yesterday and for holing up with his bondmate all day.

As he neared Draco's rooms, he conjured a bouquet of roses with huge silver petals and Slytherin green stems. He'd tidied himself up in Severus' bathroom, so he looked pretty nice. All that was left was to pray that he could pull off some charm, and be sweet enough for Draco to let him in.

He rounded the corner onto Draco's hall and froze dead in his tracks. Someone was coming out of his boyfriend's room. That Slytherin he'd seen hanging around with Ginny's boyfriend. And Draco. He'd seen him skulking around with Draco in quiet meetings in corners. Kyle was his name. Draco said he tutored him.

Harry swallowed hard. Draco must be tutoring him. That was all.

But then Draco exited his room just behind Kyle, and something in the way they were moving, in the way they stood too close, in the smile on Kyle's face…

Harry just stood there, staring. Draco turned his head, as though Harry's eyes were pulling at Draco's, forcing them to meet his own. They locked onto each other, and Draco froze as well. He was dripping with guilt while they stood there staring at each other, and gods, it was all so clear.

Harry dropped the roses, turned on his heel, and stalked off.

XIXIX

"Back already?"

Severus barely glanced up from his writing as Harry reentered his quarters, which annoyed Harry to no end. He had not closed his bond to Severus after leaving, hoping to have some extra insurance that he would not disap… that nothing would happen on the way to Draco's.

Severus should know what had happened. He should _care._

He should look up, damn it.

Severus looked up, raising a bored eyebrow. There was no trace of understanding or sympathy on his face. Harry threw himself into the chair he'd only recently vacated.

"He cheated on me, Sev," he choked, making a mental note to be embarrassed later on for the whine that had entered his voice. In his mind's eye he could see the guilty look on Draco's face, the smug smirk on Kyle's. He didn't know if he should cry or throw up. He suddenly seemed dangerously close to both.

"I can't believe it. I can't believe he'd do that to me." He crumpled forward and buried his face in his hands.

After a few moments, he became aware that the only noise in the room outside his own breathing was a quiet scratching. He looked up over his fingers, and saw that Severus had gone back to writing. This show of disinterest from his bondmate was like a kick in the stomach. Harry felt wounded, and completely alone.

"Sev," he said quietly.

"I heard you, Harry," the Potions Master said without pausing the movement of his quill. "He cheated on you, and you can't believe it."

Harry's stomach lurched. He was definitely going to throw up.

"But my question for you is this," said Severus, leveling him with serious gaze. "What did you expect?"

Harry latched onto the eye contact and forced his stomach to still. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

"You've told me your relationship with Draco has been faltering. You've been growing distant. You doubt your own ability to make him happy. Then, just after a fight, and on Valentine's Day, you avoid him for an entire day."

"But… we have a commitment to each other."

Severus snorted. "What commitment? Have you ever talked to him about it, or do you just have an 'understanding' about cheating?"

Harry sat up straighter. "Well, I have an understanding that if he's going to be dating me, he's not going to be shagging other blokes!"

"Harry, wasn't he dating _someone else_ when you first started shagging him? Didn't your relationship _begin_ as an infidelity?"

"But… No. That's different."

"Is it? Then what about his behavior while you were unconscious after the Final Battle? You knew all along he cheated on you then. It didn't seem to bother you."

Harry swallowed hard. His mouth had gone dry. "He… I wasn't there for him after it was all over. I couldn't expect for him to wait around."

But Harry could see what Severus was getting at. When he'd first started dating Draco, the Slytherin had made no bones about the fact that he was with Pansy Parkinson, but that that hadn't stopped him from being with many others, and wouldn't stop him from being with Harry. Draco had, in fact, _never_ been faithful before. And Harry had just expected him to start now, no matter how bad things got between them. And they never had specifically _said_ they would be.

Then something else connected. Harry had never been unfaithful before (had never really had a relationship before, but still…), so he never expected infidelity from Draco. But Draco had always been unfaithful before. And suddenly, Harry understood why Draco was always so jealous. He expected infidelity. He really did believe that Harry would cheat on him, and of course it would make sense that he would cheat with the person he was closest to—his bondmate.

Harry sat back and carded his hands through his hair, his mouth forming a small 'o'. A year's worth of fights (those that weren't Harry's fault) suddenly made sense. How could he have missed this? How could he have been so dismissive of Draco's jealousy of Harry's relationship to his godfather? How could he have failed to say, 'Don't cheat on me'?

"Oh Merlin," he muttered. "Sev, what do I do?"

"Well," Severus folded his hands neatly on the desk in front of him, "You need to consider how important this infidelity is to you. Does it matter to you, or are you willing to overlook it and continue to pursue this relationship?"

XIXIX

Draco sat in the center of his bed among the messed up blankets. The scent of an afternoon's worth of sex still hung faintly in the air. Draco refused to clean the place up, refused to move from this center of shame he'd created for himself.

He'd seen the look on Harry's face. He'd seen the roses. Harry hadn't cheated on him with Severus. And if Draco _had_ broken up with him, Harry had been on his way to make things right. But Draco had gone and screwed everything up, had let his imagination run away from him, had believed his worst fears, had gone and screwed some guy he didn't care about instead of waiting a few more hours for Harry to come and apologize.

But it was over now. Harry wouldn't be able to forgive him for this. Harry wouldn't be able to look at him after this. Harry wouldn't be able to care about him. He would hate Draco forever, or maybe worse, he'd simply be… indifferent. Not willing to deal with a broken heart, he'd just walk away and never look back.

"Draco?"

Draco jumped out of bed. Harry was in his front room, calling him. He was _there._ That had to mean that he cared, that he wanted to _try_, that he thought Draco was worth it.

Draco eased open his bedroom door and saw Harry standing there, not quite looking, but not quite looking away—as though he was afraid of what he might see coming out of that room.

"Harry," he said quickly, entering the front room. "I can explain. It's just that…"

Harry shook his head and Draco broke off.

"Draco, it doesn't matter," he said.

The blonde stood there staring at him. The moment of relief that came with those words was quickly replaced by a voice screaming in Draco's head, '_Well, why the hell not!_' And everything came flooding back—the disappearances, the arguments over Severus, Harry's history of always choosing his bondmates over his boyfriend, and Harry holing up with Severus on Valentine's Day rather than coming to Draco.

He could feel the blood rushing into his head, felt his fists clenching, felt his eyes narrowing. He needed a big blow-up now. He needed a fight. He needed to know, once and for all, if he meant _anything_ _at all_ to Harry.

But before he could even open his mouth, Harry's eyes grew wide and his face turned pale white. He looked to Draco, then to the door, then back to Draco.

"Oh gods," he rasped.

Alarmed, Draco stepped forward. "What's wrong?"

"The Ministry's here," said Harry, already turning to run out the door. "They're arresting Ginny."

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Jeez, it's hard to write infidelity. I was frozen in a dead writer's block for weeks at the paragraph in which Kyle enters the chapter. I just couldn't do it. And I certainly couldn't write the sex scene I'd wanted—so, sorry guys, you'll just have to imagine all that happened, and all that went through Draco's head to actually convince him into bed with Coyote.

In RL news, I'm running the AIDS Marathon this fall in Dublin, Ireland. If you want to know more, or maybe sponsor me, drop me a line on email, or check out my blog (see my profile), or go to www. aidsmarathon. com (remove spaces), click "sponsor a runner," Chicago, and enter runner number 0117. Seriously, even if you have no intention of supporting me financially, I will be thrilled beyond belief if you'd send me a quick note to say, "Right on—Kick AIDS's ass!"

Part of my job is to educate young people (teens mostly) about HIV prevention. HIV/AIDS is a huge problem in our world—the number one cause of death among people age 15-59. I take this very seriously, and love to hear from other people who feel the same.

And also, I'm gonna run a marathon in Ireland, which is also pretty damn cool. Any other runners out there?

Take care, y'all,

Kati


	14. Death Eaters at Hogwarts

X

XIX

XIXIX "Death Eaters at Hogwarts" XIXIX

It turned out to be perhaps the worst night of Harry Potter's post-war life. Inside his head a voice kept screaming that he never should have left Severus' rooms. He had been safe there. He had not disapp… nothing had happened to him there. Nothing had gone wrong. The world had been just fine without him.

And then he had to go and leave the comfort of safety, and the world had responded with rude gesture and a "Fuck you, Harry Potter."

It simply was not fair. Life should not be so cumbersome. A single individual should never have to deal with so much horseshit.

His subconscious mind whispered, "_This isn't happening to you… This is happening to Ginny._"

He told his subconscious mind to piss off.

Minister Fudge himself had accompanied a team of Aurors to Hogwarts to arrest Ginny. Also in tow was one Willa Raspberry, Prophet reporter. Dumbledore was livid. Unfortunately, there was very little he could do at this initial point. Fudge had brought with him an executive order stating that if the Aurors' arrest or subsequent search for evidence was in any way impeded by staff or student, the school would be closed and everyone within it – staff and student alike – would be detained until such time as the investigation was deemed completed.

Fudge, Dumbledore, and two Aurors were holding Ginny in the headmaster's office. Harry was not allowed inside; the three Aurors stationed outside made sure of that. Realizing that Harry could quite easily overcome anyone standing between himself and his twin, Fudge had supplied the guards with _another_ executive order stating that any meddling by anyone – staff, student, and magical twin alike – would result in the detention of the accused Ginny Weasley in Azkaban until such time as the investigation was deemed completed.

So if Harry went to his twin, his twin would be carted off to Azkaban. And even though the infamous prison was now Dementor-less, Harry was still not willing to faces such a prospect.

Instead, he sat against the wall in the hallway just outside the headmaster's office. He figured it was the closest he would be allowed to his twin during this ordeal. He was wrong. Almost immediately, the Aurors threatened to notify Minister Fudge of a violation. Harry moved into the Great Hall to where the Gryffindors had been evacuated during the search of their tower.

The distance didn't matter so much technically. Harry could speak to Ginny at any distance. But emotionally, it mattered. He felt distraught that he could not be physically with his twin during this awful time.

He could feel her crumbling in upon herself. Not only had she been arrested in front of the entire school as she returned from Hogsmeade, but there was a reporter in her room, going through her things. Willa Raspberry had accompanied the Aurors on their search for evidence. Ginny's humiliation was complete, and completely public.

"What time is it?" groaned Ron from a few feet away. He was lying across four seats with his arm flung over his face.

"Late," said Neville miserably. "Almost curfew."

Ron flung his arm down; his knuckles hit the stone floor. He propped himself up angrily and glared at life. "How long does it take to find _nothing_?!" he demanded loudly. "Ginny's not a Death Eater. Why are they bloody dragging their feet about admitting they don't have anything on her?!"

"It takes longer to find nothing," said Hermione with a sad sigh. "If it's there, you'll see it and stop looking. But if it's not there, you keep checking and rechecking just to be sure you didn't miss anything. If they're really convinced Ginny's a Death Eater, they won't stop looking anytime soon."

"Oh, well, _thank you_, Hermione, for that brilliant analysis of human behavior," bit Ron.

Hermione looked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"How is she?" asked Neville, staring glumly at Harry.

"Same," said Harry. He was staring straight ahead, his gaze lost in space while his mind held on to the one link that mattered most. Ginny wasn't thinking about anything. She simply existed in her misery. She sat and waited for it to be over, for there to be a resolution one way or the other. She didn't even have it in her to hope everything would work out—as it should, were this a fair and perfect world.

XIXIX

An hour after curfew McGonagall appeared and explained that the Gryffindors would be staying the night in the Great Hall. The tables were swept away and bedding appeared. Everyone began to settle in, though no one seemed to be in the mood to sleep. There was some shuffling around, the random giggle from the younger students, but mostly a low murmur of Ginny's supporters continually protesting the injustice of it all.

XIXIX

Harry knew it was coming because he had been inside Ginny's head. The Aurors had finally returned from Gryffindor Tower with nothing. But rather than giving up their search, they simply changed locations.

Most of Gryffindor had been asleep for several hours when the doors to the Great Hall opened and in strode a neat file of aloof Slytherins. They were tired and irritated over being put out of their House in the middle of the night, but even more irritated at being told to share the Great Hall floor with Gryffindor.

"This is their mess," complained one loudly. "Why don't they fix it themselves? Why do we have to get pulled into it?"

Other grumblings were similar, and they made no attempt to quiet their footsteps or anything else for the sake of the sleeping Gryffindors. Harry rolled over on his stomach and raised his head, scanning the crowd. Within seconds he spotted them: Lokstavian and Kyle.

It seemed sinister that they should be together now. Only hours after Kyle had fucked his boyfriend, _his boyfriend_, he was standing there with Ginny's. And it was Lokstavian's room that was currently being searched.

Ginny had been with him when she was arrested. Harry wondered now if Lokstavian had plotted something against her.

'Stop it, Harry.' Ginny cut into his thoughts, annoyed. 'You know perfectly well that Lokstavian is being victimized by this garbage, same as I am.'

Harry's anger simmered. 'Well, forgive me if I'm not in the mood to be generous to that lot right now.'

'That _lot_ is my boyfriend, and he has nothing to do with happened between Kyle and Draco. If anyone's to blame, it's—'

'I know it, Ginny! I messed up when I holed up with Sev. I just had to…'

pain

nothing

'Harry?'

'Yeah?'

'Are you okay? Are you still there?' Through their bond, Ginny felt slightly panicked, and Harry quickly realized she had thought he'd left again, right in the middle of her ordeal. He must have blocked her out when the pain came and his thoughts scattered. It hurt to even make that realization. Harry turned his thoughts to other matters.

'Everything's fine,' he thought, trying to really mean it so she could _feel_ that he really meant it.

She was silent for awhile, trying to calm herself, trying to trust him. Presently she continued, 'I didn't mean you. I meant Draco is to blame. He cheated on you. Kyle's just the guy he used. Don't think for a moment that Kyle managed to steal him away from you. There's no way Draco would consider him for anything; the boy is completely lacking personality. He just falls to the background. I feel bad for him, really. Sooner or later, he's going to realize he has no chance with your boyfriend, no matter what happened between them.'

Harry considered this, looking over at Kyle and Lokstavian as they settled in. He wondered briefly if they had even told Lokstavian they were searching his room, and if not, if the young Slytherin had figured it out.

Fudge was long gone by this point, surely snug in his bed while his minions did his dirty work. Ginny was still being kept in Dumbledore's office, not allowed to sleep since every so often someone would enter to interrogate her. The questioning only ever lasted a few minutes, and they were mostly questions that weren't really that urgent. It was as though they were only trying to keep her from sleeping, as though the whole purpose of this exercise was to break her.

This last time, Ginny had once again answered truthfully and clearly, begrudgingly admitting that yes, she had a boyfriend. She told them who he was, what house he was in, how long they'd dated, and no, he was not a Death Eater either.

Several minutes later, the Slytherin House had filed into the Great Hall, minus the Head Boy.

'I wonder where Draco is, anyway,' thought Harry.

'Probably asleep in his room.'

'They let Hermione stay down here with her House, even though her rooms weren't being searched.'

'Hermione was already down there with you when Gryffindor settled in for the night. I'm sure Draco's been in his quarters since curfew.' Ginny paused, and then said kindly, 'You know that Draco would have wanted to be down there with you. I'm sure they just wouldn't let him because it was only Gryffindor in there earlier.'

'Yeah, yeah,' thought Harry, although he was comforted by the words.

XIXIX

Harry and Ginny spent the rest of the night in a sleepy haze of dozing rest interrupted by brisk interrogations. The Aurors didn't seem to be finding anything, but also didn't seem ready to give up just yet. Willa Raspberry had tried to interview Ginny twice, but Ginny would say nothing to her, not even to tell her to go away.

Just after dawn, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and in trounced an entire squad of Aurors. Ginny didn't know anything about what was happening, and neither did Dumbledore, who was calmly sipping tea behind his desk, as he had been all night.

Something in the purpose with which the Aurors moved alarmed the students, who were rising from their sleep, and then to their feet. The faculty chaperones were already moving to block the Aurors' entrance, moving to maintain order in the makeshift dormitory.

"What is the meaning of—?" Severus began to demand, but was cut off as the lead Auror held up a scroll with an air of self-importance.

"Kyle O'Tea and Lokstavian Azghard." He stated the names like a royal proclamation, like a victory for all wizardkind.

"What about them?" seethed Severus.

The Auror turned to stare at him, nonplussed. "Well, they're in here, aren't they?"

"And how is that any of your concern?" asked Severus, making the man work for his stupidity.

"They're under arrest, of course. We'll be taking them to Azkaban for further questioning."

"Like hell you will! Minerva, alert the headmaster!" McGonagall turned on her heel and was out of the Great Hall in a moment.

"Now, wait just a moment…"

"No, you listen to me, you little twit," hissed Severus, stepping into the man's personal space. "Albus Dumbledore still has control of this school, no matter what delusions of grandeur the Minister of Magic holds. And you will respect that authority."

"Are you trying to impede this investigation?!" squawked the Auror somewhat shakily. "I have an executive order stating that no person may—"

Severus cut him off, instead turning to address the roomful of students who were standing by, watching the scene with avid excitement. "Students, I have an announcement that is in no way related to the ongoing Auror investigations at this school. I am hereby giving all students in this room detention for leaving your dorms after curfew, effective immediately."

Severus' announcement was met with glares and groans and a few cries of outrage.

"The terms of this detention are as follows. No student may verbally or non-verbally communicate the identity of any student at this school to anyone, including students, faculty, or…" he turned to the Auror and spat, "_school guests_. Anyone breaking the terms of this detention will spend every remaining night of their school career in detention with me."

The Auror sputtered, at a loss for what to do next.

As realization of the implications of this detention seeped into the minds of the students, a few started to giggle. Others smirked. Still others viewed their most feared professor with a newfound respect. He was actually sticking up for the students for once, albeit in a somewhat bastardly fashion.

But Harry, for his part, was fuming again—certain, again, that the two Slytherins had set his twin up. The Aurors had found something they were able to use to arrest the two. They had clearly been up to something.

'They arrested me,' Ginny cut into his thoughts. 'And you know they don't have anything legitimately incriminating on me. What makes you think Lokstavian and Kyle are guilty?'

Harry conceded the point, although unhappily. And in his head, he placed Kyle at the dead center of everything that was going on. He would kill him.

McGonagall entered the headmaster's office at that moment, and related what was happening in the Great Hall. In moments, Dumbledore had frightened the Aurors in the office into transporting Ginny downstairs. He hadn't wanted to leave her alone in the office, afraid perhaps that they would move her to Azkaban if she were out from under his watchful eye.

XIXIX

It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. The Aurors were trying to determine which two students were Kyle O'Tea and Lokstavian Azghard with growing desperation. But the students wouldn't budge, purportedly for fear of endless detention with Severus Snape.

"Are they on this half of the room or this half?" tried one of the Aurors on a first year, gesticulating wildly with his hands.

"I'm in detention!" she squeaked. "I'm not allowed to talk about it!"

Another Auror was in Snape's face, yelling at him to release the children from detention.

"How else will they learn?" whispered the Potions Master in a terrifying hiss.

Hermione watched all of this and, not for the first time this evening, wished she could control her Sight better, so that she could See how all of this would end. To be honest, she hadn't Seen it coming at all. She cursed herself again and again. She was useless, really.

But one second before the doors burst open, Hermione felt relief wash through her. Dumbledore would take care of it. He had to. And then—there he was. Two Aurors followed him; between them was Ginny Weasley. Her wrists were shackled together in magical restraints. She looked just awful.

Next to Hermione, Harry jumped to his feet in a rage at the way they were treating his twin. But showing remarkable self-control, he did not rush forward. He knew the executive orders, and he was terrified he would mess up and get Ginny sent to Azkaban.

Across the room, Hermione saw Lokstavian react similarly. But too many other people were on their feet, were protesting the sight. Ginny simply had too many loyal friends and followers in Gryffindor and Slytherin for the Aurors to be able to pick out which ones were her boyfriend and her boyfriend's roommate based on reaction alone.

"SILENCE!" roared Dumbledore, and everyone stopped immediately. A few of the younger students fell over.

Dumbledore turned to the Auror who had been yelling at Severus. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "These students were transported out of their dormitories, _out of your way_, and you come to interrupt their sleep without informing me?! What is the matter with you?"

The Auror ducked his head slightly in shame before pulling himself back up. "We've found evidence of Death Eater activity," he said. "Minister Fudge gave us full authorization to make arrests as needed."

"What evidence of Death Eater activity did you find at my school?" Dumbledore intoned dangerously. Hermione felt the floor tremble with his anger.

"Items that can be used for stealth or subterfuge. Items that can be used for vandalism, destruction, or devastation. Here. In _your_ school."

"And who is responsible for this?"

"Two fifth year Slytherins. One of them is the prisoner's boyfriend. We found a gigantic stock-pile hidden in a secret room connected to their dormitory."

Hermione cut a look over to Kyle and Lokstavian. Both had turned deathly pale. She chanced a glance over to Harry. He was shaking in his fury. She turned to Ginny, whose eyes were now alive with surprise and… betrayal? Had Lokstavian betrayed her? Or had these items been planted? Were they all being set up?

"And now," continued the Auror, "Professor _Snape_ has placed all of the students in detention so that they are forbidden to reveal the identities of these two students."

Dumbledore cut Severus a furious look. "Is this true?"

"It is."

The headmaster turned back to the Auror. "Then I am afraid I cannot help you. We have a policy at Hogwarts of leaving the detentions up to the teachers. There is nothing I can do to help you identify these students."

The Auror began shaking, almost as much as Harry. He looked almost as furious.

"You will tell me who these two students are immediately!" he snapped.

"I will do no such thing."

"Very well. In that case, I will be forced to maintain the charges on Ms. Weasley alone, _and_ assign all evidence to _her_ possession, _and_ transport _her_ to Azkaban to await her _trial_!"

"No!" shouted Harry, rushing forward. Hermione, Ron, and Neville were after him in a second, trying to restrain him. Trying to keep him from making things worse.

But they were too late, anyway. By the time the group reached the head Auror, Lokstavian had already placed himself directly between the Auror and Dumbledore.

"I'm Lokstavian Azghard," he said. "Those items are mine. Ginny doesn't know anything about them. And neither does Kyle."

"Yes, he does," said Kyle, appearing by his side. "I'm Kyle O'Tea. And the items are mine. But they are not now, nor have they ever been used for Death Eater activity."

The Gryffindor group paused. Harry snuck closer to Ginny though he couldn't stand directly next to her while she was in custody.

"They're not illegal items," said Loky.

"They're prankster products," said Coyote.

"We've been running a contraband rink since the school year started. Nothing in our store is harmful in any way."

"They were purchased in a popular prank shop. The items are forbidden at Hogwarts, but there is absolutely nothing _illegal_ about what we are doing."

"And Ginny Weasley had nothing to do with it," reasserted Lokstavian. "Ginny had nothing to do with it at all. She is a good person and a good student, and is perfectly innocent of our rule breaking. If I had known this was why she was arrested I would have come forward much sooner. Those items have nothing to do with her."

The Aurors scoffed. "And just how did you manage to get such a massive store of these so-called '_legal_' items into Hogwarts?" he snapped, clearly not yet willing to buy their story of innocence. "And where did they come from?"

Loky closed his eyes, as though hating what he was about to say. "They're from the Weasley Wizard Wheezes shop on Diagon Alley. We got them by…"

He looked to Coyote. Coyote looked to Loky. And to Hermione at least, it was perfectly clear that neither of them had the slightest idea how the items had arrived at Hogwarts. A memory tugged in her head of the first time she'd ever been introduced to the two boys. On New Year's Eve. At the Weasley Wizard Wheezes shop on Diagon Alley.

The Auror huffed. "No, I thought not. The three of you are under arrest for Death Eater activity. I don't know what mass slaughter you were planning with your—"

"Draco Malfoy!" shot Hermione.

She was certain of it now. It all added up, and it all came together into one neat story with no loose ends. She'd seen Draco sneak off to corners in the library with the two fifth years. He'd claimed he was tutoring them. He'd tried to talk Hermione into not following the case of the photographs of the teachers in their pajamas. He'd been at the Weasley twins' shop with the Lokstavian and Kyle _and _Fred and George when she and Ginny walked in. And Draco had looked surprised for a moment when Lokstavian asked to be introduced to Ginny. And then Draco and the twins had yelled at Hermione, convincing her to avoid even staring at Lokstavian for too long, successfully bullying her into never suspecting him for anything!

Oh, she'd been so stupid not to figure it out! The whole year Weasley-esque pranksters had been eluding her as a Head Girl, and the whole time they'd been right there under her nose. And Draco, too—a Head Boy!

"I'm sure it was just business," she said, stepping up to Dumbledore and the Auror. "And an awful lot of rule breaking, but this can't be Death Eater activity. Get Draco Malfoy down here. I'm sure he can explain everything."

Behind her, Harry paled.

XIXIX

Draco appeared shortly thereafter in his pajamas, a nighttime robe thrown hastily over his shoulders. As soon as he was questioned about the items, he summed up the situation, and came clean with everything. There was a tenuous moment when it seemed as though the Auror was going to arrest all four of them for Death Eater activity, but at that point, Harry jumped in.

Standing between Draco and Ginny, he told the Aurors that if they were going to arrest his magical twin and his boyfriend for a connection to illicit although not illegal items, then he, Harry Potter, was going to spend all of his time, and fortune if necessary, making sure every witch and wizard on Earth new that Minister Fudge and those Aurors, by name, had fouled up one of the simplest investigations in history simply so they could bully a few kids.

"I will go door to door if I have to," growled Harry, holding Ginny and Draco's hands in his.

At that point, Dumbledore suggested that they appraise the items to determine if any of them actually were illegal, or if they were simply prank products that the Aurors had not been familiar with.

Within an hour, all charges were dropped. The mattresses, blankets and pillows were cleared away, and tables firmly replaced. The students were sent back to their dormitories to either get some sleep or get ready for the day. It was Sunday morning, and time for breakfast.

XIXIX

Back in the Great Hall, Ginny and Harry were not eating. They sat close, with their arms around each other, promising each other silently that they would never let go again. Harry didn't know how exactly he would keep that promise, since he had so little control over his life, but he didn't care. He would find a way.

Nobody tried to engage them in conversation, but everybody came by. They were the absolute center of attention in the Great Hall that morning. A steady stream of supporters passed, patting Ginny on the shoulder, closer friends kissing the top of her head, everyone murmuring that they were with her, that if she ever needed anything…

Ginny was in so much pain. Harry could feel it. Her heart felt deadened. Her mind was so tired. Harry hadn't known that it was possible for Ginny Weasley to give up. This much be what it was like. It was awful.

So he didn't let her go. Over the next hour, the Great Hall refused to empty, as people refused to abandon her in her time of strife. After awhile, Harry began paying attention to what was being said around them.

"…my sister died and they didn't find my mum for almost two months. Ginny was the only one who made me feel human back then. How could they do this to her?"

"…I killed one of them, you know. It was him or me and I didn't want to die, but… to take a life. I thought it was over. I thought it meant I was a Dark Wizard now. Ginny helped me through that. I can't believe this happened to _her_ of all people."

"…SWAN made me feel like we could fix it, like even after all that bloodshed, that good could still come."

Harry squeezed her tighter. His twin was incredible. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to her ever again.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and three Slytherin students entered, their heads bowed in shame. Severus loomed behind them, radiating the well-known Potions-Master-fury.

"You have fifteen minutes to eat," he intoned quietly, though somehow his voice resonated throughout the Hall.

Draco and Lokstavian made a beeline to Harry and Ginny. Kyle trailed behind them. Lokstavian fell to his knees beside his girlfriend.

"Ginny, Christ, I'm so sorry," he pleaded. "I didn't know… I never thought this could possibly hurt you. I thought at worst I'd get into a heap-load of trouble. I thought if I kept you out of it…"

Harry's anger bubbled, but Ginny quelled it through the bond. 'This is mine to deal with,' she thought. Harry remained silent.

"Lokstavian," she said quietly, pulling away only slightly from Harry, "It was an absolutely stupid thing you did, selling contraband items here at Hogwarts. I never would have imagined you would do something so utterly idiotic."

Loky's head bowed further in his shame.

"You're just like my brothers," she said. And there was a certain fondness in her voice. "I can see why they'd choose you for business. I'm sure it was quite prosperous."

Loky looked up, searching her face. He reached the same unbelievable conclusion as Harry. "You're not mad?"

Ginny cocked her head to the side. "That you lied to me… yeah, a little. But you know you never would have gotten caught if this investigation hadn't happened. It wasn't about you, and it wasn't about those items. They came here looking for any dirt they could find on me, though Merlin knows why. You're a victim in this too, Lokstavian. I'm not forgetting that."

Loky let out a single nervous laugh. "Dumbledore said the same thing. I thought he was just babbling on in one of those 'goofy sage' moments he has. Funny that it actually seems true coming from you."

The Slytherin was still kneeling before her. Ginny reached out her hand and rested it kindly on his shoulder. Lokstavian took it into his own and smiled tentatively. "I don't deserve this sort of loyalty," he said.

Harry was struck suddenly by a memory. Last year in Firenze's classroom, Ginny had confronted him about his secret relationship with Draco. Draco had put her life in danger, had reported the beginning stage of their twin bond to the Death Eaters. Harry had messed up badly by trusting Draco with that information at that time, but Ginny had stuck with him.

"_I don't deserve this kind of loyalty,"_ he had said.

"_Yes you do, Harry_," she'd responded. "_You screw up royally sometimes, but you are most definitely worth the trouble. I'd stand with you even if there were no prophecy. You remember that."_

But now, when faced with the question of deserving loyalty, Ginny thought to herself, 'Maybe not. But we'll see.' She seemed hopeful, just not certain.

Aloud, she said to her boyfriend, "You certainly didn't deserve what happened last night. No one did." Harry found himself comforted by the disparity between the two answers. Ginny must really see something special in him to have stuck by him so steadfastly. At least, she had.

Harry glanced over to Draco, wondering if he could forgive him as easily as Ginny was forgiving her boyfriend. They'd forgiven so much of each other during their time together. Just when would it become too much?

Draco was watching Harry uncertainly. He clearly did not know how to speak to Harry after everything that had happened in the last few days. Or if he should. Harry didn't know either. He said nothing for the time being.

"So what happened with Dumbledore, then?"

All three Slytherins shuddered.

"We deserve everything," said Lokstavian stoically.

Draco nodded agreement. "We do."

Lokstavian looked up at him. "We're not expelled, but Draco's no longer Head Boy. We have detention every night for the rest of term with Filch. And we are not permitted to take part in any non-academic extra-curricular activities or clubs."

"And Hogsmeade weekends are out," added Draco. "We're allowed to stay at Hogwarts, but our activities will be exclusively educational."

"Well, and detention," said Loky with a weak smile.

"I'm sorry you lost Head Boy, Draco," said Ginny.

Hermione huffed. Harry glanced over at her and saw that she was clearly biting her tongue to keep from unloading an awful lot of steam. But Draco beat her to it.

"And I'm sorry. Hermione," he said, and waited until she looked up at him. "I'm sorry for what I did. I know how much being Head Girl means to you. It really just never meant the same to me to be Head Boy, and I abused it. It's okay if you hate me for it. But for what it's worth, I am sorry."

Hermione deflated quickly. She was a sucker for people getting so quickly to the root of the matter. Harry thought of Ron, and how he never did get whatever she was on about. He wondered briefly how they had ever wound up together.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the weekend post. An owl swooped in and dropped the Daily Prophet on Hermione's plate. She opened it absently and let out a horrified cry.

"What is it?!" demanded Harry. In his arms, he felt his twin grow stiff.

'Please don't let anyone else be dead,' she thought, 'Please don't let anyone else be dead.'

Hermione laid the paper out on the table. Shouts of outrage filled the Great Hall. Lokstavian was on his feet, swearing loudly and creatively. Draco took one look at the headline and sat down with his head in his hands. Everyone was yelling and angry. Everyone, that is, except Ginny. She just laughed.

"_DEATH EATERS AT HOGWARTS!!!"_ the headline screamed, followed by the words, "_Ginny Weasley and Cronies Arrested."_

Ginny laughed so long, and so hard that tears began to stream down her face. "That's why the investigation took all night!" she chortled. "They had to make sure we weren't cleared before the paper was printed."

She kept on laughing, loud and cynical and hopeless.

"Ginny…"

"It doesn't matter," she said. "They'll retract the story tomorrow. On page twelve. In fine print."

"Ginny, are you okay—?"

"But it's already in people's minds. And it'll stay there. So Harry and I can never speak against the Ministry because people will quietly wonder, 'Are they really supporting the Death Eaters? Are they really trying to compromise our safety?' "

"Ginny…"

"No!" she said angrily. She pulled free from Harry and was on her feet, the determination back in her eyes. "I'm not gonna play their game. They won't win either way. Truth is just like time. It catches up, and it just keeps going. Let them choke on it. They're not going to break me with this. I'll—"

"_LOKSTAVIAN AZGHARD!_"

The room fell to silence immediately. At the door to the Great Hall stood a formidable-looking wizard with long black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Oh shit," hissed Kyle.

"Dad," said Loky meekly. "What are you—?"

"Don't you _dare_ talk back to me, boy!" thundered the wizard as he strode forward. He seemed larger than life as he approached, like a god standing before them. Loky seemed smaller in his shadow, shrinking away from the man.

"I work very hard for this life I give you, and _this_ is how you repay me?! I ought to have you thrown in Azkaban myself for all the good you've ever brought this family. I will _NOT_ see the Azghard name in ruins while a poor piece of _witch trash_ drives you hormonally insane and leads you down a path to Darkness!"

He grabbed Lokstavian by the hair and yanked his head backwards. Without even looking at her, he thrust an accusing finger at Ginny and said, "You will never talk to this girl again. You will never look at her again. You will never _think_ of her again! Do you understand me?"

Amazingly, Lokstavian struggled. "Ginny's innocent," he whimpered, trying to pry his father's fingers out of his hair. "She is _not_ trash!"

"_Silencio!_" roared the boy's father, and Loky fell quiet. But Harry was not affected by the spell.

"You've got a lot of nerve saying those things about my twin," he said. And though his voice was low, the power radiating from him was beginning to cause the tables to vibrate. "She was wrongly accused and has put up with quite enough. You will not speak of her in that way."

The wizard turned to Harry and sniffed. "This has nothing to do with you, young man," he said. "My son and I will be going."

He pulled again on Loky's hair, directing him toward the door.

The tables were shaking so badly that cups and plates were beginning to spill. Harry raised one hand toward the retreating man, but Ginny grabbed it and lowered it. Immediately, the tables stilled.

"Let him go, Harry," she said, and he saw that her recently renewed spirit had again plummeted. She was trying to hold it together. "You won't change anything that way," she said. "Let him go."

Dumbledore was at the door before Lokstavian and his father were through it. "Ah, Mr. Azghard," he said. "I see you have arrived. You will kindly unhand my student."

"I'm taking him out of this school. My son is no longer your student." Nevertheless, he did let him go. Loky rubbed his neck.

"I am sorry to hear that," said Dumbledore. "I assure you he is quite safe here. We were able to rectify the misunderstanding with the Ministry in a matter of hours. As for his rule-breaking, a punishment has already been set, and I do believe your son has learned his lesson quite well." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows to Loky, awaiting a response. When Loky motioned that he could not speak, his father ended the silencing charm on him.

"Ginny!" he called out, running a few steps back. "My father is wrong. You're a good person. You'll save the world one day! I—"

His father hit him with another silencing spell and grabbed him again, this time by the shoulder.

"He's coming with me, headmaster."

And with that, Lokstavian Azghard was taken from Hogwarts.

XIXIX

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived just a few minutes later. Ginny ran into their arms. Dumbledore offered the family the use of a conference room to spend the day together, with full House Elf service. He also offered Ginny a few days to go home and rest after her ordeal, but Ginny flat refused. Mrs. Weasley seemed unconvinced it was a good idea for her to stay on, but simply said they'd talk about it upstairs.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Harry followed them from the Great Hall. They hadn't gotten far when a soft "Harry?" came from behind.

Harry motioned the rest of them on. He leaned back against the wall.

"Yeah?"

Draco was staring at his feet. "Severus gave me a minute but we'll be with him all day making arrangements for the rest of the year."

"Yeah."

"Look, we… We need to talk about this, and I… I…"

Harry nodded. "I'll come by tonight after the Weasleys leave. We can talk then."

Draco moved his face in a way that Harry guessed was supposed to be a smile. "All right," he said.

But later, when the Weasleys had gone, Draco wasn't in his quarters and Harry realized he would have been moved back to the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins now that he was no longer Head Boy. Harry considered going down there, but the possibility of seeing Draco and Kyle together in the common room was too much for him to handle just yet.

If he and Draco were going to make it, Harry was going to have to _not care_ about this infidelity. And right now? Well, maybe it was best if they had a little time.

Down in the dungeons, Draco waited in the hallway outside the common room. When Kyle came to him, Draco told him to sod off. And when Harry didn't come to him, Draco wondered if he cared at all.

XIXIX

XIX

X

**A/N:**

"Truth is just like time. It catches up, and it just keeps going." Quote from Dar Williams' song, "As Cool As I Am."

Here you have version 4 of Chapter 14. Sorry it took so long. And thank you to everyone who kept reviewing even though it had been many months, and thank you to everyone who kept asking if I would ever update again even though it was looking pretty hopeless.

Honestly, I really, really want to promise I will finish this story. Because in my head it just gets cooler and cooler as the plot progresses. Anyway, here's to hoping that I can purge the rest of this puppy out onto some pages. If I can get it to go, I do promise you won't be disappointed with the final result, although perhaps by the time it takes to get there.

Love and magic,

Tangledhair


	15. The Last Days Before Future, Part I

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Last Days Before Future, Part I" XIXIX

Months passed, but very little changed. Ginny and Neville persevered in helping the other students readjust to this new post-war life, but they did it in smaller ways. They talked to people one-on-one about the loss they'd suffered and the changes that had occurred. They organized the distribution of material assistance informally. They never actually stopped what they'd been doing, although they did stop making headlines once they'd stopped doing it in such a big way.

Harry and Draco were still together, more or less. Draco tended to sit with the Gryffindors at mealtimes, but he spoke more with everyone else than Harry. But for some indiscernible reason, they refused to break up.

Ron was still sneaking off to do his research. The only thing that had changed there was that he'd gotten much craftier about when he'd leave to do it. It was always when Hermione was otherwise occupied. While on Head Girl rounds, while meeting with professors, while in the girls' room. He'd gotten really good at making sure she could never follow him.

Hermione found herself less and less sure of their relationship. By the time exams came around and the seventh years were in full NEWT panic, Hermione was really beginning to wonder what was going to happen when they left Hogwarts and moved into the future.

'And this coming from a Seer,' she thought wryly at the breakfast table. It was the first day of exams and the Great Hall was subdued with the nauseated silence that often accompanies high anxiety. Ron was still managing to eat as they all worked in a last-minute cram session.

No one looked up when the mail came. Most of the letters that arrived were quickly put away for later. No one else seemed to notice the huge black envelope that landed on Hermione's plate, embossed with an official bronze crest. No one looked up as she opened it. No one paid attention as she read it. It was only when she ran from the Hall in tears that anyone realized that anything was out of the ordinary at all.

Ron looked over at the Ancient Runes text she'd left open at her place. His eyes widened at the indecipherable page. "Bloody hell," he said, "She has to take a NEWT on _that_ stuff No wonder she's upset. I better give her flowers tonight."

XIXIX

Luna found Hermione by the lake.

"Hermione, what happened?"

The Gryffindor startled and quickly wiped the tears from her face.

"It's nothing."

"No it's not."

"It's… Nothing. I got some good news, is all."

Luna smiled kindly. "That's nice. Do you want to share it?"

"No."

"Just with me?"

Hermione regarded her friend and a little of her tension melted away. None of her other friends would understand why this letter had upset her so much, because she hadn't told any of her other friends about the prophecy she made last summer. But Luna knew. And Luna had been there to answer the door, and she would _understand_.

"I've just gotten word from Durmstang. They've offered me the Divination Professorship."

"Oh," said Luna. "Oh, I see. Lupin teaches there, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, Hermione…" she began.

"Yes, Luna. _I know_." She wasn't in the mood for a lecture about fate and destiny and her inability to avoid what she knew was going to happen no matter what she actually _wanted_ for her life.

"No, I mean… you're with Ron, right? And you want to stay with him?"

Hermione thought about that, didn't have an answer. Nodded anyway.

"Well, then just follow your heart without worrying about what's been ordained for you. Life has a way of working itself out. Don't miss out on something good just to avoid the slim possibility of something… well, not something bad, but something you don't want right now. You can't go through life afraid of what might happen if it turns out you're right. You used to enjoy being right, you know."

Hermione smiled weakly.

"And plus," said Luna slyly, "If it turns out you're wrong, then you shouldn't be a Divination Professor anyway, so you'll have to quit."

And the Seer laughed.

XIXIX

NEWTs weren't that big a deal to Harry. He'd been through them already back when he was Severus, and he'd gained a lot more knowledge since then. He knew it wasn't fair to his classmates, but Severus had long since convinced him to stay and take them. So he went through the motions.

As the week wore on and his classmates began seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, conversations began to drift toward the future. His was a class that had been through an awful lot together. It was going to be weird parting. And it was hard to imagine leaving Hogwarts. It was hard to imagine what he would be doing next at all.

Draco was planning to going into business. He was worried that no one would want to hire him with the reputation he'd gained after the p-cubed fiasco and the Ministry investigation. The Weasleys had already told him they could not hire him. They'd suffered quite a few business losses after headlines had bordered on aligning them to Death Eaters for a week.

But business was what Draco knew best. He had been raised to take over his father's business. Even with that option gone, Draco was determined. It was part of who he was. He would make it work. His OWLs had been good. He expected his NEWTs would be as well.

Professor Sprout had helped Neville get a job at a reputable greenhouse just outside of London. He would be in charge of the care and maintenance of a vast variety of magical flora. With the high recommendation Sprout had given him, it almost didn't matter if Neville failed his Herbology NEWT. But of course, he fully expected to achieve and Outstanding. In that one.

The Gryffindor trio were the only three who didn't seem to have plans, or more to the point, wouldn't seem to voice them. Harry couldn't imagine that 'Mione didn't already have something lined up. It didn't seem like her not to have a perfectly laid out ten-year plan. But she would say nothing on the subject. Ron was similarly closed-lipped. Every now and again he'd get a spark in his eye and mention that things were going very well with his "research", but he would never elaborate.

Harry was really curious as to what his two best friends would do, but he didn't want to broach the subject in case they expected answers from him as well. For Harry's part, he had no idea what would happen next. A secret part of him feared that when he left Hogwarts he'd simply disappear forever. And he could no more voice his fear than he could stop it from becoming a reality.

In all the months since his little victory of not disappearing on Valentine's Day, Harry had made very little progress on figuring out what was going on with him. He simply could not think about it in any productive way. He couldn't tell people so that they could figure it out for him. Any time a conversation veered in that direction, he'd have a memory lapse during which time he would have invariably yelled at the person that it was none of their business. Furthermore, he couldn't even tell people he didn't remember saying it.

There was nothing he could do. At least, nothing that he had yet discovered.

So the future was not a very exciting prospect to him. The thought of graduation filled him with anything between apprehension and dread. Ginny had asked why, but only once. Their ensuing argument was completely out of Harry's control. He didn't remember most of it.

XIXIX

Draco was the second person to leave his Arithmancy NEWT. Hermione was the first, ten minutes earlier. The Slytherin was walking alone, mentally reviewing the questions, when Kyle cornered him in the hallway.

"Draco."

"Sod off."

Draco pushed past him but Kyle grabbed his arm. "You're leaving in less than a week. What do you have to lose by having one conversation with me before you go?"

Draco looked at him. The fifth year looked hurt, heartbroken even. What _did_ he have to lose? Draco sighed.

"So talk."

"I know you're with Potter," Kyle said. "I don't have any delusions that we're going to wind up happily ever after or anything. I just want to know why you did it."

"Why I did what?"

"Why you brought me to your room and shagged me and then cut me off completely when my life fell apart. I thought we were supposed to be friends. I can understand that it never went any further between us, but… my god Draco. The only thing I had in my life was that I was a Trickster. Loky left and all of that was taken from me. I thought at least you'd be there to chat with after that night with the Ministry. But all I ever get from you is 'sod off'."

Draco looked away. He felt horrible all the sudden. All these months he though Kyle kept trying to talk to him because he was in love with him. But of course he knew that Coyote didn't have any friends. He'd worked hard at that.

"What do you want from me?" he said, because he didn't know what else he could say.

Kyle shook his head and smiled wryly. "Just tell me. Are you a complete bastard or what?"

Draco wished he were. Because when Harry rounded the corner and saw the two of them talking, a complete bastard would have just smacked Kyle in the face and told him to sod off in order to ensure his boyfriend didn't get the wrong idea. But instead he stood there and said nothing, did nothing, and watched Harry turn back around.

Draco blew out his cheeks. "That's what I have to lose by talking to you. I'm sorry, Kyle. It was never anything personal."

XIXIX

He caught up to Harry a few minutes later.

Harry glared at him, but then like always, fought his face into that annoyingly neutral look. That look that said, 'I don't really give a damn about you. Nothing you say or do can touch me.' Draco wanted to smack him, thought about the irony that he wouldn't have hit Kyle, but he would hit his boyfriend.

"You needed me?" he said, restraining physical violence.

Harry shrugged. "You looked busy," he said calmly. Draco did not curl his hand into a fist, but it was a near thing.

"Yeah," he said. "Kyle needed someone to talk to. He doesn't have any friends since Lokstavian left."

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?"

"No," said Draco. "But I am. Anyway, what's up?"

"It's just, have you seen this?" Harry held up a bit of really gaudy parchment. It was glowing brilliantly with all of the four Houses' colors. "It's charmed to look like exam notes to non-seventh years."

Draco took it. He had seen one; he just hadn't had the chance yet to look at it with his NEWTs. "_Last Party at Hogwarts!_ _Post-NEWT Bash in the Room Of Requirement! After Curfew! Think __**Sink**__!"_

"Think 'sink'? I guess that's a password to get in."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Look, it's on Friday after NEWTs end, and who knows what'll happen after we leave this place?"

Draco's face shaded over. Typical of Harry to adopt a 'who knows' attitude rather than sitting down to figure it out with him.

"It might be fun," he said, "And your detentions will finally be over, so we can actually do something together for a change."

Harry scuffed his foot on the floor. Draco looked at him anew. He was actually nervous. Like he was asking Draco out on a first date or something. It was endearing. Draco couldn't help it. He was charmed. His mind jumped to hopeful conclusions that everything would be okay now. That Harry would forgive him and trust him and stay with him after they left Hogwarts. It was stupid and he knew it but he couldn't help it. Harry was acting like _Harry _for once.

"Yeah," he said, almost grinning. "It's a date."

XIXIX

When Ron skirted the issue of whether or not he would go to the seventh years' last party, Hermione was suspicious. But if she was going to successfully follow him and figure this whole thing out, she couldn't let her suspicion show. So she acted like she didn't notice the 'maybes' he threw into conversations. She acted concerned Friday morning when he started feigning a bad headache, even before the day got started. She did her best to act as though she wasn't on to him at all.

Potions was their last NEWT. Hermione suspected that Snape loved that, that his students were sweating his class to the very end of it. She also suspected that the exam was going to be a breeze to Harry. She would have to work doubly hard, triply, to make sure she finished when he did or before.

Luck was on her side. Harry didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to finish. That meant that they finished almost simultaneously. They gathered up their things and left the exam hall together.

"Harry, I need to talk to you," she said quickly.

Harry looked surprised by her urgent tone. "Okay."

"Right. Well, remember when I told you that I didn't know what Ron was researching but I was afraid it might be Death Magic?"

Harry nodded, sobering completely.

"I guess I should first begin by asking you if you've discovered anything to the contrary?"

Harry shook his head, mentally smacking himself. He hadn't pushed into the issue at all. Ron had seemed fine, and Harry had so much else to try to think about. He worried suddenly that he'd really failed his friend.

"Neither have I," said Hermione. "I've been trying to follow him when he goes off to his research for months. The thing is, he knows I'm trying to follow him, and he's gotten bloody good at sneaking off when I'm not around."

"Which really doesn't look good," sighed Harry.

"I know. But I suspect he's got a meeting tonight, and that his plan is to feign a huge headache so that we'll go to the party. Then he'll leave after we're gone."

"How would you know this?"

"Just trust me. I've read the signs."

"Oh. You Saw something?"

"No! I've just watched his behavior. Harry, I need you tonight. I need for us to follow him and get to the bottom of this now. What?"

"What?"

"You looked strained. Why are you even hesitating in this? Ron might be falling into Dark Magic!"

"I know. I just… I told Draco I would go to the party with him, and… I know, I know," he added hastily. "Of course I'm going with you."

"Good. I can't do this alone, Harry. Honestly, I'm not sure anymore if Ron loves me more than whatever it is he's doing. And if it's Dark Arts, that means there's no way I'd be able to stop him alone."

"Don't say that, 'Mione. Ron loves you."

Hermione wasn't so sure.

XIXIX


	16. The Last Days Before Future, Part II

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Last Days Before Future, Part II" XIXIX

Harry stashed the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map just outside of Gryffindor Tower in a secure location. They went down to dinner and did their best to act like everything was normal. They stayed there late after the meal, chatting happily with all of their friends. They were finished with their exams and looking forward to their graduation ceremony tomorrow. They would receive their official diplomas in six weeks, after their NEWTS had been scored.

Tomorrow their families would be there, and tomorrow night they'd celebrate at home. But _their_ party was tonight. This was the time for the graduating class alone.

Harry hated himself for it, but he knew he couldn't tell Draco he wasn't going until after Ron left. He had to keep up the charade because he knew Draco would be mad. He knew they'd have a huge fight. And he knew that Ron would figure out that something was going on. This may be their last chance to stop Ron if something terrible were happening. Who knew what would happen after graduation?

Hermione was right. As it began to get closer to curfew and people began going to their dorms to get ready to sneak back out for the night, Ron's headache from that morning suddenly came back, and was suddenly a lot worse. Hermione doted on him, offered to stay back from the party, but Ron told her she should go. Hermione was hesitant, but she really did want to go. Finally she agreed, but she brought him a pain draught first, and told him to take it the moment he was ready to fall asleep, because he would at that moment. Ron thanked her and set it aside. He started getting ready for bed.

Hermione left through the Common Room, retrieved the Cloak and the Map, and waited.

Meanwhile, Harry had to talk to his boyfriend.

"Something's come up. I can't go to the party tonight."

The color drained from Draco's face. He was clearly disappointed. And clearly furious. "Why not?" he whispered. Harry didn't like the sound of that.

"Hermione needs my help with something. It's really important or you know I wouldn't—"

"It's okay."

It wasn't. Even Harry could see that.

"Draco."

"No, it's okay. It's nothing new, Harry. I should have expected it."

"Draco, we'll have our own celebration at Grimmauld Place tomorrow night. Just the two of us."

"Sure, like the last time you invited me to Grimmauld Place. And then disappeared for the entire winter holidays."

Shit. Pain ripped through Harry's head and so he quickly skirted the issue in his mind. He thought of Draco being alone, rather thank thinking of himself disappearing. Harry wanted to promise it wouldn't be like that. But how could he promise, when he didn't know?

"I'm so sorry," he said. Draco wasn't yelling at him. He must not have told him it was none of his business when the pain came. Maybe, just maybe he could figure out a way to fix this.

"I'm sorry too," said Draco. He entered the Slytherin Common Room and slammed the door.

XIXIX

It wasn't too long before Ron came out. He had disillusioned himself since the Invisibility Cloak had been nowhere to find. He walked slowly, checking around corners. He whispered swears sometimes. "Of all nights for him to use the map!"

Hermione needed the map to see where he was in some of the darker corridors, but Harry didn't. He reached out with his own magic and followed Ron closely. He even took the time to probe at Ron's aura. He didn't feel any Darkness there. He prayed Ron was okay.

They followed him out of doors. Once he was outside and there was a lesser chance of being caught by a roaming faculty member, Ron walked faster. He was heading straight for the Whomping Willow. He paused just before he reached it, as did Harry and Hermione. They heard a slight commotion over by the lake.

Hermione poked Harry in the ribs and gestured frantically at the map, but Harry didn't need it. He'd already discovered that it was Draco. The Slytherin was chucking huge rocks into the lake and cursing furiously. They could only make out some of what he was saying, but Harry's name was yelled several times.

Ron tumbled toward the tree, avoiding the branches and hitting the knot _just so_. The tree fell still before it had a chance to pummel him, and Ron slipped into the passageway below.

Harry was torn. His heart pulled him toward the Slytherin by the lake. But everything else screamed that he needed to save Ron. But Ron may not even need saving. Harry hesitated.

"Go."

Hermione pushed him out from under the cloak. She reached up quickly and tapped his glasses with her wand. "You know which way we're going. I'll send a charm if there's danger. Your glasses will glow bright red for four seconds. Now, go!"

Hermione pushed him again, and then hurried into the passageway under the Whomping Willow, chasing after her boyfriend.

Harry strode to his furious beau. He didn't think he'd be able to do this quickly, but if his glasses did glow red, he'd go. As long as Hermione didn't send a warning, he could stay with Draco. Maybe he'd have time to fix it. He could try, at least.

"Draco!"

Draco stopped mid-sentence in an angry rant. He picked up another stone that lay near his feet, but rather than chucking it into the lake, he chucked this one at Harry. Harry stepped easily out of the way of it.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

"I'm blowing off steam so that I don't hex you. Not that it would work," he added angrily.

"It's just a party," said Harry. "There will be other parties. I told you this was important. I don't see why you have to be so angry about something so stupid."

Draco picked up another stone and heaved it into the water. "This isn't about a stupid, sodding party," he ground out. "It's about choices, Harry. Options. We all have 'em, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Choices, Harry! You've had options ever since we first got together. Oh, there are so many choices open to you. And you've made it perfectly clear what your choice is. Every single time it comes down to a choice between me or someone else…"

"I chose _you_, Draco."

"You choose someone else!" yelled the Slytherin as though he hadn't heard him. "It's _always_ someone else, Harry. It's always Ginny or Severus or Ron or Hermione or Luna or Lupin! Every time it comes to me or someone else—anyone else!—you ALWAYS choose the other person! Why am I never good enough for you?"

Harry took a tentative step forward. "Draco…"

"No! I never even had a choice. When I cheated on you, it wasn't a choice between _you_ or someone else. I had to choose between someone else… and no one. You were never there, Harry!"

"I'm here, Draco."

Draco picked up another stone and chucked it into the water.

"You never chose me. Even when you were dying! I was there, Harry, on the battlefield. I killed my father and I went to find _you_! And you're curled around Ginny. And what's the last thing you say before you go unconscious for a month? You call out for Severus! And what's the first thing you say when you wake up? You call out for _Severus_!"

"Is that what this is about? I never cheated on you, not with Severus, not with anyone. And I don't care that you cheated on me."

"No, you don't care about anything I do, do you? You don't even talk to me anymore, Harry. You don't give a damn about anything to do with me. Well, I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this—walking some line, hoping you'll come around and love me like you do everyone else. Like you did before."

Harry felt cold in the summer air. He could feel it coming and he didn't know how to stop it. He rushed forward and tried to take Draco in his arms, but the Slytherin resisted, pulling away.

"Draco, no. Don't do this. I choose you. I have chosen you, again and again, I choose you. Please. I love you."

Draco looked away, looking haggard. He took a deep breath.

"And I love you, Harry. But I love me more."

He turned to go.

"Wait."

Draco didn't.

"It's over, Harry."

Harry stood there for some time, watching until the blonde had disappeared from view. He loved Draco so much he thought he might fall apart at the seams without him. But even through all of his pain, a more reasonable part of him felt a bit relieved. With Draco gone, Harry could never let him down again.

Eventually, Harry followed Hermione's path into the Shrieking Shack. He figured that since she had never sent the warning charm, that either everything had turned out to be fine, or that at least nothing had happened yet. He didn't realize that he was already too late.

XIXIX

Hermione crept through the tunnel toward the Shrieking Shack, her panic growing with each step. She felt like she was forgetting something, something dreadfully important. A memory was tugging at her brain, but she couldn't quite pull it forward. Was it something Ron had said? Was it something to do with the Shrieking Shack?

Hermione pushed on. Ron had apparently made great haste once in the tunnel. He was far ahead of her, maybe already at his destination. This must be a regular journey for him. Hermione found herself stumbling often, and occasionally banging her head against some protrusion.

When she reached the shack, she was pleased to see that Ron had left the trap door open. It would help her to gain entrance unnoticed. She could hear voices. She poked her head up and looked around. They must be in another room. Hermione climbed inside and padded gently forward. She was swamped by a sickening sensation of déjà vu. What was it that she was forgetting?

The voices were growing louder. They were in the kitchen. Drawing nearer, she could make out what they were saying.

"I've kept Dr. Monroe abreast of our research, Ron. He's very impressed." It was a woman's voice. It must be that Angela.

"Indeed I am, Mr. Weasley. When you first wrote me I thought you were just some kid with big dreams. If Angela hadn't picked up your letter, I fear we may have lost out on a productive collaboration. However…"

There was a pause. Angela picked up the sentence. "I've kept Dr. Monroe abreast of our other conversations as well. I think you know to what I am specifically referring. Your, ah, apparent attachment to the creatures you work with."

"Mr. Weasley and I have an understanding." A voice as smooth as silk, as lovely as the night itself. It rolled over Hermione like water. The realization of what it was filled her with dread. "I will assist him with his research, and in return he will help further the cause of my kind."

"Yes, exactly," said Dr. Monroe. "I worry about how comfortable you are in making such arrangements. I wonder if, should it come down to choice, you would choose the creatures, or your research."

"Just what are you trying to say?" asked Ron, an edge in his voice. Hermione wondered at the undertone of the conversation. Were they asking if Ron would go back on a promise? Or if he would sacrifice a creature for the sake of his research?

"This room is beginning to feel… unsafe." The voice pressed through her with an ugly bite. The vampire clearly felt there was a threat present, and was becoming threatening in return. "In fact," it added slyly, "I think I sense…"

And suddenly, it all came back to her. Months ago in Hogsmeade, standing with Ron and Draco, staring at the Shrieking Shack, Hermione had grabbed Ron's hand and Seen… _Inside the shack, with Ron in the background and two other people she didn't know… the vampire saw her, took her as a threat, advanced upon her and Hermione knew she'd reached the end._

"…Someone else."

Hermione was suddenly damp with sweat and all-consumed by a blind panic. She took a careless step backward and knocked into a shelf that rattled and caught the hem of the cloak. The vampire advanced through the doorway and it didn't matter that Hermione was still covered by the cloak, because it could see right through. It looked straight into her eyes with a feral sort of glare and Hermione screamed as Ron and the other two came in behind the Dark creature. It was beautiful and terrifying. It advanced and Hermione fell backward, quite unable to control her own limbs. She was petrified.

'This is how I die,' she thought. 'I already Saw this. How could I have forgotten?'

"You are not welcomed here," the vampire keened. Its shape was changing into something horrible even as it advanced, swooping forward to make its kill. Hermione lay frozen in fright, waiting for her end.

The vampire ripped off the now haphazard Invisibility Cloak, and from somewhere very far away, Hermione heard someone scream her name. And then…

The vampire slumped dead on top of her, a wooden stake sticking out of its back. Ron rushed forward.

"My god, my god, 'Mione, speak to me!" He pulled the creature off of her, inspected her thoroughly. "What are you doing here? You don't have any protection. My god, you could have been killed. I would never forgive myself. I can't lose you too, 'Mione. I can't lose you ever."

Ron stopped his frenzied search for vampire bites or other markings or signs of damage. "Hermione," he said. "Look at me."

She looked at him and said, "Are you okay?"

"Am I o…" Ron laughed, pulled her into his chest, held her so tight in his arms. "Am I okay? You're insane, woman. You're bloody nutters. You're absolutely wonderful."

"Is it dead?" she asked, muffled.

"Yeah."

"And I'm not?"

"No, thank the gods."

"But I thought I had Seen my death."

Ron pulled back, looking worried. "You had a vision that you died here tonight?"

Hermione thought back, her shock beginning to subside. "No, I guess not. The vision ended before the conclusion. It just seemed so certain what the outcome would be."

"No way," said Ron. "I'll never let anything happen to you. I'd die without you, 'Mione. I love you. I want you to marry me."

Hermione froze. "You what?"

"I want you to marry me. I won't go living without you. Will you marry me? Say you will."

"I…" Hermione couldn't believe it. She hadn't died even though she'd thought it was a vision of her death. Ron had killed a Dark creature that was attacking her, so he couldn't be a Dark wizard. And now he was asking her to marry him. She had a choice.

"I will." He grinned, pulled her in again. "Of course I will."

Behind them, Angela Diamond and Dr. Morton Monroe were having a murmured conversation.

"He killed the vampire. We didn't even have to ask him to."

"But he did it to save this woman he loves. It's not proof that he'll stay detached in his research. Only that he keeps his attachments in line of priority."

"But he's young. And his priority did at least put humans over his idealistic dream of saving the vampires."

"True. He hasn't even paid his dead vampire friend any attention."

"So are we agreed?"

"We are agreed."

"Mr. Weasley," said Dr. Monroe loudly. "I trust your young friend is okay?"

Ron and Hermione pulled themselves to their feet. They were both grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes," said Hermione. "Yes, thank you. I'm fine."

"Good, good. Mr. Weasley, I must say I was very impressed with your quick actions tonight, as much as I am with your research. Why, you must have practiced that wooden stake hex quite a bit to have gotten it so perfectly in a pinch."

Ron smiled. Then he looked over to the creature and the smile fell from his face. "I hope I didn't compromise our research by…"

Dr. Monroe beamed. "Not at all, not at all. In fact, Angela and I were just discussing a job offer. We'd like you to come work for us in the Department of Mysteries. You'd be able to further your work on magical creatures, as well as develop some of those protections you've been working on. And of course, as an Unspeakable, you'll have doors open for you. You can live anywhere in the world you want while you do this work. Your research will be well financed, and you yourself will be paid quite well."

He held out his hand to Ron. "What do you say, Mr. Weasley? Should I have my assistant draw up a contract?"

As Ron shook his hand, Harry poked his head up through the trapdoor. Taking in the glowing faces of Ron and Hermione, he asked, "Hey, what's going on?"

No one noticed how horribly Angela's smile faltered when she saw him.

XIXIX

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon when the seventh years lined up by House at the far end of the Quidditch pitch. Chairs had been set up on the field for friends and family members. Dumbledore was in full regalia.

Hermione, of course, made the Valedictorian speech. It was long and full of words most people had never heard of, much less used in their daily vocabulary. Ron cheered wildly at the end of it.

Draco gave the Salutatorian address. It was short and to the point. "We are ready now," he stated. "The future is ours to make what we want of it. Good luck to us all."

Harry realized as he watched the blonde look out over the crowd that he had no family to come and see him graduate—since his mother, and only surviving relative, was in Azkaban. At first he thought that made he and Draco alike, until he realized that he had the Weasleys. And Remus. And Nicolas and Perenelle. Draco had no one.

Except, Severus stood up and snapped a picture as Draco completed his short address. Draco cracked the tiniest of smiles, and Harry was sure he saw him blush. He loved Draco. It couldn't be right that they had broken up. Surely making it through everything they had made it through meant they were made for each other. Who else could have lasted so long in those circumstances?

Harry decided to talk to him after the ceremony, but even minutes after they'd thrown up their hats with a huge cheer, Draco was nowhere to be found. And then he was swept up in a storm of Weasleys and other family friends, happy to be together, happy for Ron and Hermione's engagement, happy to be able to celebrate life.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N:

"And I love you. But I love me more." –Samantha on Sex and the City. What a great line. Damn, but I wish I'd written it myself.


	17. The Hard Choices

**A/N: It was brought to my attention that a huge chunk of the chapter titled "Last Days Before Future" had been cut out during the upload. I'm so sorry I didn't notice sooner. I'm re-uploading the chapter, split up into two parts. **

**Sorry for the inconvenience, my dear readers.**

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Hard Choices" XIXIX

"I still can't believe it," said Ginny. "Why didn't you tell anyone you'd been offered the job?" It was a week after graduation, and the younger students were finally out for the summer. Ginny had only just arrived back home. Harry and Hermione had come to the Burrow to meet her.

Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't sure I wanted it. I don't even have an OWL in Divination. How am I going to teach it?"

Ron snorted. "A hell of a lot better than Trelawney, I'm sure."

"Ron…"

"What? Tell me. _Tell me_ that you don't know more about the subject than her. Plus, you're a viable Seer who's made more than a handful of accurate predictions. You're a war hero. And you know you're going to be a great teacher."

Hermione flushed.

"Are you going to live at Durmstang?" asked Harry. "Or are you planning on staying closer to London.

"Durmstang," said Ron immediately. "I've already been told that as an Unspeakable I'll have clearance to live anywhere I want. And it'll be easier for 'Mione if she can stay close to her students."

"When do you get your contract with the Department of Mysteries?"

"This coming Wednesday. We'll hash out all the details then. I still can't believe this. It's like a dream come true."

Harry couldn't believe it either. It did seem like a really good opportunity for Ron to do his research, but he couldn't help but think about Julian Solis. Severus' old lover had been an Unspeakable. He had disappeared almost twenty years ago and was declared dead at the time by the Department of Mysteries. However, his body was found just this past Halloween—dead within the last year. Harry knew that Ron would have to sign his life away in order to take the job. He'd have to agree to the possibility of the same thing happening to him. Or worse.

He wondered how Hermione would take the news of the contract's stipulations. Harry, for one, was not about to tell her.

"So…?" said Ginny happily. "When's the wedding going to be?"

Hermione giggled. Ron slung his arm around her and pulled her close. "Oh, we were thinking…"

"At the beginning of next summer."

"Why so long?" asked Harry. "I would have thought you'd get married before you moved to Durmstang."

"Oh, but there's so much to do," said Hermione. "I've got to set up my classroom, get textbooks, make out lesson plans… We're going to be moving out in just a few weeks."

"Yeah, mate. That's just too bloody soon to pull of the big wedding that Mum's gonna want. And anyway," he winked, "If we wait 'til the beginning of next summer, we'll get to have a nice, long honeymoon."

"Ah! My brain!" shrieked Ginny. "I think you just destroyed the last of my innocence!"

"What?" asked Ron sweetly. "Don't want to think about your brother in bed with the most beautiful woman on Earth?"

"Stop it stop it stop it!" Ginny squeezed her eyes shut tight and clamped her hands over her ears. "I can't hear you! I can't hear you!"

Hermione swatted at Ron. "Leave her alone, you sicko. Ginny, it's okay," she called out. "Ron will play nice or he won't play at all."

"No, I won't… oh." Ron caught on to what 'play' Hermione was talking about, and fell into a faux sulk.

XIXIX

Draco looked around his new place. It was no Malfoy Manor, but he was satisfied. He had just signed his first lease on a really nice flat in London's Central Magic District, not too far from Diagon Alley. He'd lost no time at all getting himself set up after graduation. It was time to move on. It was time to look out for himself. It was time to leave his childhood behind and be his own man.

It wasn't as hard as he'd expected to get into the business world. He was hired almost immediately to be a salesman at The Mageria. It was the largest retail manufacturer of magical items for the home and office. Selling would be easy enough. Draco already knew that within a year he'd make manager. It was only a matter of working his way up.

This _was_ what he wanted, after all. This _was_ what he'd been bred to do. And after the war, of course this is what he wanted. Just a nice, quiet, normal job. No more excitement. No more insanity.

(No more Potter.)

This was what he wanted.

He looked around his flat and wondered what it would be like to live by himself. It would definitely be different from Hogwarts. And _definitely_ different from the Manor. But being alone could be a good thing.

Maybe he'd have a housewarming party.

XIXIX

"Harry's upstairs," said Remus. "You want some tea?"

"Please, I'm parched." Ginny slid into a seat at the kitchen table and Remus poured her a cup. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Well, you heard that Ron's been offered a job with the Department of Mysteries, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

Ginny paused. "What do you think about that?"

Remus chewed his lip. "It's a very prestigious position," he said. "A lot of wizards work years trying to get in. It's impressive that Ron's joining straight out of Hogwarts."

"No, I mean… What do you think about Unspeakables? What do you think about the Department of Mysteries?"

Remus sat down. "Well… Let me first say that it seems to be highly uncommon for Death Eaters and school children to do battle there. So if you're worried about a repeat of what happened that night…"

Ginny shivered. "No, not exactly. It's more like… That whole place is so strange. They seem to do such bizarre and dangerous things there. And, Remus I'm worried for Ron like I'm worried for Harry. I remember what you and Severus were talking about last year when Harry disappeared for the first time. About how he has Unspeakable status. And if Ron's gonna be one, then that means that either one of them could disappear forever while they're out doing some crazy job and we'd never know what happened to them."

Remus nodded, understanding her concerns. "Have you ever talked to Harry about this?"

"No. He'd probably just tell me it was none of my business. I swear to Hera he sounds like a broken record sometimes."

"Yes, he does," said Remus, suddenly very far away.

"Did you ever talk to him about it?"

"No, I haven't either. We don't… Harry doesn't seem to want to talk to me like he used to. He's changed a lot since the war, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"Ginny, look at it this way. I can't say I like the secretive nature of the Department of Mysteries. But I do know that a lot of very important work has come from the Unspeakables. You and I both know that sometimes, in order to do great things, one must take great risks. Harry's done it, and I'm sure will do again. And Ron, well. Ron will make his choices. I'm sure he'll be okay."

In the other room, they heard a fire call.

"I'll get it," called Harry, coming down the stairs.

They heard a murmuring in the other room for a few moments, and then Harry appeared. He did not look happy.

"Ginny, you're here," he said. "It's for you."

"Oh. Okay." Ginny got up from her seat and headed toward the living room. Harry followed her, but stopped in the hallway as she entered. Draco Malfoy's head was floating in the fireplace.

"Hi, Draco."

"Hello, my queen. I called over to the Burrow and your mum said I'd find you here. How's your summer so far?"

"These past few hours have been great, let me tell you."

"Good, good. Listen, I've got a new flat in London."

"Oh yeah? Did you get the job? You never owled me."

"Yes, I got the job. After a five minute interview. I think the Malfoy name just might still have some sway in the business community."

"Good for you, Draco. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Anyway, I'm going to have a housewarming party. I was wondering if you'd want to come."

"Of course I'm coming!"

"Well, then. More to the point, I was wondering if you'd want to help me organize it. I have a week before I start at the Mageria, and I still need to set up my flat… I don't know where to start. I could really use your help."

"Absolutely. Mum's got the weekend planned out already. So how about Monday? I can stop by first thing."

"Monday sounds great. I'll see you then."

Draco's head popped out of existence. Almost immediately, Harry entered the room.

"What was that about?" he said.

Ginny set her face. "I thought you might have heard. Draco's going to have a housewarming party. I'm going to help him."

"Why are you still talking to him? You know he just broke up with me. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Harry, don't do this. Don't make me choose between you and Draco. You know you'll win. He's my friend and I want to keep him in my life. Don't make me leave him behind just because you two couldn't work it out between yourselves."

Harry huffed. "Well, tell him not to call here. You want him in your life? Fine. But keep him out of mine!"

"Okay, I will. And then maybe you can admit that you're just yelling at me about this because you don't want to admit how miserable you are without him, and you don't know how to make up with him!"

Harry balled up his fists and took a deep breath. "He only left me a week ago. You don't have to throw it in my face."

He stomped over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Severus." He threw the powder into the fireplace and stepped in. "Snape Manor."

As the world began to spin around him, Harry heard Ginny call out, "Better be careful, Harry! Severus is probably keeping up with his godson too!"

XIXIX

Harry landed with a heavy step and managed to maintain his balance. 'Why didn't I just apparate?' he thought to himself.

'Because you're an arse,' thought Ginny. Harry was angry, but he knew he deserved that. Without specific thoughts they sent apologies and forgiveness back and for through their bond. Then Harry closed them off so that he could stew without sticking his foot further down his throat.

Severus was in the kitchen making dinner, so Harry made his way there.

"You're angry."

"Yeah. Ginny and I had a fight."

"No you didn't. You were fighting with Draco. Only she was there instead of him."

Harry didn't say anything to that. Of course Severus was right. "It's for the best anyway," he said instead. "It was never going to work out between us. You knew that all along."

"Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, Remus is cooking something. We've barely spent any time together since graduation."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged. "He doesn't know what to say to me anymore. It feels awkward."

Severus set aside the vegetables he'd been chopping. He washed his hands and turned to face his bondmate, leaning against the counter.

"You seem to inspire that in people," he said.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter as well. By body position, they were mirror images of each other.

"Not so much in you, Severus."

"No, Harry. But then again, I've long since given up trying to understand you. That may have helped."

Harry grinned. "The paradoxical result is that you understand me better than anyone."

"No, it just seems that way." Severus pushed himself off the counter and grabbed a glass. He motioned it to Harry, who nodded, so Severus grabbed another. "Rum okay?" he asked.

"It's our favorite."

Severus paused. Then, "Yes, it is." He poured the two glasses and handed one to Harry. He took a sip before Harry could make a toast. Annoyed, Harry took a sip as well.

"Tell me, Harry. Have you thought of what you'll do next?"

"No."

"Are you going to?"

"Something will come up."

"Yes, I'm sure something will. You know…" Severus ran his finger around the rim of his glass. "If you haven't settled on anything by this fall, you're more than welcome to come stay with me at Hogwarts. If you decide not to get a job, that is. I daresay you don't need the money."

Severus was nervous about saying that, he could tell. But he'd closed his bond off to him. Harry wondered just where that nervousness came from.

"I appreciate the offer," he said. He took a step forward.

"But?"

"I don't know. We'll see what happens."

Severus put his drink down. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Harry."

"I didn't think you were."

Harry put his drink down as well. They were both silent for a time. When Severus began again, he spoke very slowly as though he were choosing his words with great care.

"I know you are hesitant to plan your future. But I do want you to know that no matter what happens, it is important to me that I know where you are and that you are okay. I won't try to rule your life. But if I can have it, I would like to have that one consideration."

Harry stepped forward. Severus would have hated saying all of that. He would be honest when it came down to it, but he was still averse to expressing sentimentalities. Even to Harry.

"Severus," he said, meeting his bondmate's eye. "Okay. To the best of my ability, and forever."

There was something else. Something unsaid that Severus didn't quite want him to know, wouldn't easily give him through their bond. His eye twitched slightly. He inhaled a very slow, deep breath.

Harry stepped forward again. Severus stepped forward as well. They were very near to each other and Harry was struck by it. He knew how Severus felt, of course. And Severus understood him. And he had stayed with him on Valentine's Day, had protected him from… well. Severus had made it clear that Harry's safety and well-being were priority to him. Why shouldn't Harry be with him? It made so much sense. It would be good. It might be exactly what Harry needed.

He closed the space between them Severus' hands were in his hair, were on his back. His mouth was pressed against Harry's and kissing him was nothing like kissing Draco. It was nice. Hell, it was wonderful. Harry wrapped his arms around the taller man and shifted until he was kissing his neck.

It felt different. He tasted different than Draco. Oh, he did taste good.

Suddenly, the bond opened back up between them and… it was fantastic! It was an intimacy like Harry had never imagined. They were joined together completely. Their minds touched and they could feel each other feeling each other. Harry moaned and Severus melted, grabbed him tighter, pushed him backward and slammed him against the wall.

Rough like Draco could be. It was…

Severus pushed back. He was breathing heavily, his hair mussed. Harry thought that he'd never looked so sexy as he did at that moment. So sexy and… angry.

"You're thinking about Draco," he said.

Harry's cheeks heated with embarrassment. He didn't have to call out the wrong name. With his bondmate, even his thoughts could betray him.

"I'm sorry. I want this, Severus."

"I know, Harry. But I'm not going to be your rebound."

XIXIX

"Have you decided what you want to do?"

Harry grumbled to himself over his stew. Everyone wanted to know what his plans were. It was like he wasn't allowed to be out of school for any amount of time without his entire life laid out in front of him. Why couldn't they just see what happened?

"Not entirely," he said.

Remus looked at him in a fatherly way. Harry kind of liked that look, although it annoyed him at the present moment.

"You are going to have to think about it, Harry. Even if you decide you don't want to do _anything_. Even if you just want to bum around forever. At least make the decision, and bum around forever _with purpose_."

Harry caught the glint in Remus' eye and smiled.

"The way I see it," he continued, "You've already saved the world once. No one has any right to expect anything more from you. So it's completely up to you. However it is that you want to enjoy your life, that's what you should do."

Harry thought about it. He would really enjoy some semblance of normalcy—a quiet job somewhere. He would really enjoy being able to spend time with his family and friends. But he couldn't really do either of those things, not with any consistency. Family, friends, jobs… they all required the ability to make plans, even for the next day. Even for that afternoon. And Harry just couldn't make any guarantees.

If he was honest with himself, the reason he'd refused to think about the future was that he didn't want to admit to himself that, for whatever reason, he couldn't have what he wanted. He needed to figure this whole thing out first. And he wouldn't be able to do that where he was, with so many people around him demanding answers that he couldn't give.

He needed to go away. And that would have to be his decision. People would accept a desire to travel, right? That was a plan for the future. And if he were already gone, it wouldn't matter if he disapp… if something happened. No one would know. No one would care.

"Bumming around wouldn't be so bad, I guess," he said.

The werewolf smiled over his stew.

"You're right, Remus. I don't have to go get some nine-to-five if I'm not ready for it. And I would like to travel, to see what all the wizarding world had to offer. That's a great idea."

"Bum around with purpose?"

"Bum around with purpose."

"That sounds good. But… wait until the end of summer if you would, Harry. It's been so long since we've really spent any time together. I've missed you something terrible."

Harry smiled. No promises, though he sorely wanted to make them.

"I've missed you too."

XIXIX

Harry was happy when he went to bed that night. Remus was brilliant, though he surely didn't realize why. He probably thought Harry just wanted to go out and search for himself, like any other kid might. But no, it was far bigger than that. Traveling the world might give him the chance to fix his head, to figure out on his own what kept happening to him, what exactly it was that was controlling his life.

He woke the next morning with a headache. He was lying on top of his sheets. His bed was made. That didn't seem right. He sat up and he rubbed his temples and winced in pain. The fore and middle fingers on his right hand were broken. A dizzying pain split through his head when he tried to remember why.

Harry cleared his head. Thought of nothing. He felt terrible. He cast a healing charm on his fingers. They were a bit stiff, but good as new. He stumbled into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror, looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt and mud. These weren't his clothes. What the…?

He was going to be sick. He knelt down in front of the toilet and vomited through the pain. He cleared his thoughts again. He'd recover. He'd been here before. He just couldn't think about it, was all.

Harry pulled off the clothes he was wearing. He climbed into the shower. He healed the bruises he found on his body. He cleansed himself, then followed the trail of filth back to his room, casting cleansing charms as he went. His clothes were all neatly folded in his bureau. He pulled out a set and dressed himself. He thought of nothing. He was beginning to feel better.

Remus.

Harry stumbled downstairs. He was so tired. It was like he hadn't slept at all last night. He just wanted to go back to bed. He went to the kitchen instead. Remus was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up at Harry. His eyes said something, but Harry wasn't able to tell what. He sat down at the table across from him, trying to pull his thoughts together. Could he think yet?

Kind of.

So what could he think about?

Harry didn't get that far; Remus spoke.

"Welcome back."

Harry just looked at him. When he tried to consider the implications of that statement, the pain started again. So Harry ignored it. Thought about Remus' tea instead. Remus made great tea.

Remus stood up. Harry watched him. Angry. He seemed angry.

"I have errands to run. Do you need anything?"

Did Harry need anything?

"No."

Remus nodded, frowned. "No, I guess you can take care of your self pretty well." He pushed through the door. Harry heard the floo as he left.

Harry sat there for a long while. Slowly, his reasoning abilities returned to him. He leaned forward and grabbed Remus' half-full cup of tea. It was still warm. He sipped it. Some time later, it occurred to him that it was a very bad sign that Remus was so angry at him when they'd had such a pleasant conversation the night before. Harry had been happy when he'd gone to bed. It could really only mean one thing.

Harry was careful not to think about that one thing.

He slid the Daily Prophet over to himself and looked at the date. July 23rd. Almost a month had passed since last night. Harry buried his head in his hands.

"Fuck."

XIXIX

It's not fair. It's not fair, and it's not fair. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't live like this and he couldn't keep doing this to his loved ones. They didn't understand and he couldn't explain it to them. There was nothing for it. He just had to go.

And no more goodbyes. No more plans like, 'Maybe I'll travel.' What if someone wanted to have lunch with him before he went? He couldn't guarantee he'd be there for lunch, for godsakes!

But he couldn't just leave. That wouldn't be fair either. They would think that he'd just disappeared again. And though Harry knew they wouldn't know the difference, it mattered to him. He was leaving of his own free will this time. He wanted them to know it.

He pulled out some parchment and sat down with a quill.

And… nothing. What could he say?

_**I am leaving.**_

Not good enough. Why? Why couldn't he tell them he was leaving? He kept trying to write something, anything, but he couldn't put it into words. His hand simply would not write it. He couldn't figure out a way to express that something was wrong, that he needed to fix himself, that his brain wasn't working, that he didn't know what was happening to himself, that he was sick of disappointing everyone because of this damned…

It was just like when he wanted to talk about something but couldn't get the words to come out. The pain would ebb every time he got to close to wanting to write something with real substance.

**I can't tell you why, but I have to go. This isn't anyone's fault, so please don't blame yourself. I hope you don't all hate me for this. I love everyone. **

'I can't help it,' he thought, and the pain came because of what it was he couldn't help. He couldn't write the words down. Instead, he wrote:

_**I need to leave. It's the only way. Merlin, this sounds like a suicide letter, but it's not. I just need to be away for a while to figure things out.**_

_**I'll come back when I can.**_

_**All my love,**_

**Harry**

Harry swore again and again as he read it over. A letter that said nothing. A goodbye that meant nothing. They would hate him for this. His only comfort was that they would hate him less for this than if he tried to stay. And damn it, he would make any goodbye he could, even this poor excuse for an explanation.

It was something. And it was all he had.

Harry packed his things into his trunk, and shrunk it down to almost nothing. "Hedwig," he said. "Let's go far away. Let's find some place where I can sit down and think. Any suggestions?"

Hedwig hooted. If that was a suggestion, Harry didn't know what it meant.

"Right then. Let's just go."

XIXIX

XIX

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	18. Only One in the World, Part I

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XIX

XIXIX "Only One in the World, Part I" XIXIX

Sometimes the days flew by like they were nothing. Sometimes they dragged on and on. He never had any say over when it would happen, and he was no closer to figuring out how to think about what "it" was.

Harry traveled the world now. He went anywhere that he caught a fancy to go. Or sometimes, he woke up somewhere and so stayed a while. It wasn't much of a life, but he made of it what he could. Most places he went, he hired himself out. There were always Dark wizards and witches around, terrorizing good folks who didn't have it in them to do what it took to put a stop to it. But Harry knew the price one paid to be a savior. He knew the things that saviors had to do.

And gods, if there was something he could do to serve the people… some good that could still come from his wretched life, then who was he to ignore their calls for help? It didn't matter where he was. It was always the same. Word spread when Harry was around, and people would seek him out.

'_There's a banshee that's killed six of us.' _

'_We found the bodies hung from the spire. We don't know who or what did it.' _

'_They've been after this bastard for years. Just can't track him.' _

'_Help us, Harry Potter. You're our last hope.'_

Harry would never make promises. He would never take anything from them unless he happened to still be around after taking care of the bad guy. He would never get attached.

He didn't always wake up in the same place, in the same week, as the last moment he remembered. He didn't always finish the job. He'd learned early on that if he woke up far away, it was best not to go back and see what terrible thing had happened because he hadn't been there. It was never pretty. Surprisingly, though, no one ever blamed him for his failures. They always figured that since he was Harry Potter, there must have been something more important to take him back away.

And still word spread. Harry Potter the bounty hunter. Harry Potter the vigilante. Harry Potter the savior. People all over the world prayed he'd come through their town. He knew that sometimes, his friends back home did as well.

He sent Hedwig to them fairly often.

_**In Africa now. It's hot. Killed a lion animagus that had been eating tribesmen. Saw a giraffe in person. Weird looking creatures. How are you?**_

He never said how he was. He never said how he got there. He never said when he might come home next.

He cherished the letters he got back, but he could never keep track of them. Even keeping them on his person wasn't enough. He'd wake up in unfamiliar clothing somewhere he'd never heard of and everything he owned would be gone. He'd long since lost the necklace Nicolas and Perenelle had given him. He tried not to keep things that meant anything to him. No attachments. No attachments at all.

He showed up at the Burrow unannounced at Christmastime. Remus had hugged him fiercely, but then couldn't think of anything to say but small talk. Molly and Arthur tried to insist he stay for the night, but Harry refused. He couldn't guarantee he'd still be there come morning. Hermione told him everything about teaching at Durmstang, about how the kids idolized her but it didn't stop them from making up rubbish in their homework. Ron told Harry everything he was able about his job as an Unspeakable, about how he'd gotten to travel far and wide to visit ancient tombs guarded by all manner of creature.

Ginny hardly said anything to him, but she held his hand the entire time he was there, unwilling to let him stray far as long as he was home. Every time he stopped home it was always the same with her. She would simply stay with him, and pretend like everything was still normal between them. He could never quite bring himself to admit how much it meant to him. He missed her so much.

Sometimes while he was lying awake at night he would open his bond to either or both of his bondmates and just feel their presence, and love the fact that they were alive and connected to him. Sometimes, it was the only thing in Harry's life that seemed real. Sometimes his bondmates would be awake as well and they'd sit there and think nothing to each other. They loved him. Both of them loved him so deeply, and didn't know what to do since he was so determined to stay so far away. There was always so much sadness. But they made no demands on him.

They never asked just what was going on.

Sometimes, Harry dreamt they _would_ start asking questions. But not of him—that never led to anywhere productive. Harry dreamt they would ask questions of each other. And everyone else. That the people who loved him would figure out he wasn't just acting strange. They'd figure out he wasn't in control of it. They'd figure out what "it" was. And they'd come to his rescue.

He dreamt that he would wake up in the morning and be safe at home, in bed at Grimmauld Place or the Burrow or Hogwarts or Snape Manor. And all of his friends and family would be around him and they'd tell him it was all okay. Everything had been set right and he never had to worry again.

Harry was in pain one night, and confused, because things were happening and time was passing and he was lost somewhere in the depth of it. And he dreamt his dream again and realized something so obvious that he didn't know why he'd never thought of it before.

There _was_ somebody who could help him. There was one person who could.

XIXIX

It was another hotel room. It didn't matter where he was in the world. Harry had woken up in enough of these that he knew how to recognize them. Merlin's beard, was he in pain today! He'd have to do a thorough job with the healing charms. He suspected quite a bit of himself was bruised and broken.

Well-practiced by now, he was very careful to never wonder why.

It took several hours before he had pulled himself together enough to function properly. He could think again, use his reason. He really wanted some tea and a good breakfast. It was time to go out in the world and figure out where he was and when he was.

Downstairs in the lobby, Harry overheard a couple talking. He thought the words shouldn't have been familiar, but some of them were. He'd gotten quite good learning languages with the help of translation charms. He knew he was in Russia. But when did he learn…? Right, he'd spent several weeks there. But that was a while ago. He'd been several places since.

Was he back on purpose? Did he have a job here? What had he been doing?

Pain ripped through his head, answering his questions without the necessity of him thinking about it.

Harry headed out. Tea and breakfast. He found a shop on the corner and some rubles in his pocket. The better he felt, the more he missed his bondmates. It was time to check in on them. He always waited until he felt okay so that he could avoid their questions, bypass their worry. If he felt terrible when he contacted them, they couldn't help but wonder why.

He opened his link to Ginny. He didn't say anything through it. He never knew what to say. He was planning on jut being with her for a while but Ginny felt panicked. Something was wrong. Harry didn't think twice about it. He pushed himself further in.

'Ginny, what is it?'

'Oh gods, Harry. It's awful. We just heard.'

She was in shock. She couldn't separate any more of her thoughts into words. Harry looked into her, read through the confusion. Ginny was at the Burrow. Dumbledore was dead.

Harry's knees went weak beneath him and he tumbled into the street. It couldn't be. Dumbledore was a constant. The world could fall to crap, but Dumbledore would live on. And then…

Harry remembered his dream.

There was only one person who could help him.

It couldn't be.

Harry pulled himself together and quickly guarded himself from his twin. He hid all of the fear that rose up in him. Harry didn't know what he did… _sometimes_. He didn't have control over himself when… He couldn't remember long stretches of this life that he led. And then one night he thinks that Dumbledore could help him, and next thing he knows, Dumbledore is gone.

It couldn't be.

It had to be coincidence.

But how would Harry ever know?

Through his fear and his grief, and even disappointment that there was no one left who could save him, Harry gained enough control to say to his twin, "I'm coming."

And then he left.

XIXIX

He wasn't well enough yet to apparate directly. It was just too far and Harry didn't fancy splinching himself. So he made a series of jumps through the places he'd been, barely stopping to regain himself before moving forward once more. He was at the Burrow in a matter of minutes.

It looked exactly the same, which warmed him to some degree. Ginny was outside in seconds. She was crying and she threw her arms around him and lost her balance. They fell to their knees under the weight of their grief. Together again, the two twins wept into each other.

Harry lost track of time again, but this without bitterness. This was real. And as terrible as it was at the moment, this was home.

"Hullo, Harry."

Harry looked up and saw Ron and Hermione standing over him. They looked older, more mature, than the last time he'd seen them. The burden of sorrow was heavy upon them both as well. Ginny and Harry stood to face them. Harry had missed them sorely; he wanted to hug them too, but something stopped him. It felt as though a barrier stood in the way, as though they'd created a wall to keep him back.

Ginny snaked her arm around behind him protectively, but then rested her head on his shoulder. Harry was struck by how the gesture could be so strong and so weak in the same moment.

"Hello," he said.

Ron looked off into the distance. His eyes were rimmed with red. "Dad's at the Ministry right now, and Mum's in no fit state for visitors. But I reckon you ought to come in for a bite. Fred and George will be here soon. I think Charlie's coming home as well. You can stay here if you like."

He wasn't quite formal, but he wasn't quite friendly either. Harry nodded.

XIXIX

Fred and George arrived first, followed by Charlie. The group sat scattered throughout the living room, barely talking. Harry couldn't say if for certain, but he sensed he was making everyone quite uncomfortable with his presence. He knew he deserved it, just… when he'd come home other times, everyone was far more welcoming.

He knew couldn't expect that everyone would always want him to return. He wondered if perhaps he shouldn't any more. Maybe it was time to break for good.

It was early afternoon when Arthur arrived home, and Molly appeared from their bedroom. She did look pretty bad, like she hadn't slept in weeks. Harry supposed that suffering a loss such as Dumbledore would hit her a lot harder, having already lost two sons. Molly loved with her whole heart. She lost with her whole heart as well.

"Oh, hello, Harry dear," she said. Her chin quivered when she spoke, causing the words to come out shakily. "It's good to see you again." She patted him on the shoulder, and then cupped his chin.

"Arthur," she said, "What's the word at the Ministry?"

Arthur sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He, too, looked haggard, as though he'd been at work for weeks.

"Natural causes is the official ruling," he said, but his tone carried a cynical frustration. "And Moody's gone missing."

Fred and George swore. Ron balled his fists and punched the sofa cushion.

"So, is it a cover-up?" asked Charlie.

Arthur gave an exaggerated shrug. He and Molly sat down together and clasped each other's hands. They looked so hopeless; everyone did.

"Sorry," said Harry quietly, from where he sat entangled with Ginny. "But what exactly has happened?"

His question was met with silence. No one wanted to speak the words. Arthur did it anyway.

"Argus Filch found Dumbledore in his office this morning. According to Minerva McGonagall, the headmaster portraits all claim to have been sleeping. When they woke they thought Dumbledore was asleep in his chair, but he would not wake.

"Filch put in a call for a team of Aurors. Moody was the first to arrive. After his initial investigation of the scene he declared with certainty that Dumbledore had been murdered. The other Aurors arrived, swept the scene, took the body, and said Moody's conclusion had been inaccurate. All the same, the body was taken to St. Mungo's for a magitopsy. Moody and the other Aurors went back to the Ministry to file their reports. Except Alistair Moody never filed his report. He apparently never returned to his office."

"Mad-Eye Moody _has_ disappeared before," said Fred. When disbelieving eyes turned to him he quickly added, "Well, you know, just to be fair. He could just be out gathering evidence or something."

"Natural causes," said Charlie, shaking his head sadly. "Dumbledore was in fine health."

"But it couldn't be murder," argued Hermione sensibly. "There's no one powerful enough to do it. Those pissant 'Death Eaters' they've been catching lately—it's nothing on this scale. We're talking petty vandalism."

"Worse things _have_ happened, though," said Charlie.

Hermione sighed, acknowledging the point. "Leaving absolutely no evidence behind. It's like…"

She trailed off. Everyone nodded. They all knew what she meant, except Harry. He wished he could open himself completely to Ginny so that he could track the nuances of the conversation through her understanding of it, but he didn't dare. He was worried if he let her in she'd understand the fear that had swamped him. And even if she didn't believe him capable of something so horrible, the facts remained that Harry didn't remember where he'd been last night, and there _was_ one person who was powerful enough to kill Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps only one in the world.

And Dumbledore had been his only hope.

XIXIX

At dusk, Ron and Hermione went for a walk so Harry and Ginny stole along with them. The atmosphere inside the Burrow was so thick with sadness. Dumbledore had meant so much to so many people. Harry imagined many homes would be as full of grief as was the Burrow.

It was good to get out for some air, although it seemed unseasonably warm to Harry. He figured it was the contrast from Russia to England. He pulled off the jumper he had worn and threw it over his shoulder. It kept slipping, so Ginny shrunk it down and shoved it in his pocket.

They all walked in silence for some way. Harry knew that it wasn't the best time to catch up, but he missed his friends. He sorely wanted to hear all the boring details of their day-to-day life. He wished they'd met again in happier circumstances, so they'd be free to sit and chat, and laugh even. He did want to be close to them again, like old times.

"How are your classes going, 'Mione? Kids ever get over their awe of the Great Seer Hermione Granger?"

Hermione scowled at him. Ron looked away. They walked on in silence for a distance, Hermione's expressive eyes showing she was trying to think of just _what_ to say. She took several deep breaths in quick succession, and Harry knew that for the bad sign it was.

"Classes were just fine, thank you, Harry." Her voice was quick and curt. "But they have been over for quite some time now, seeing as how it is summer holidays."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Summer holidays? It couldn't be.

"You mean you're preparing for the summer holidays?" he tried. "You're having them get ready for exams already?"

"No Harry," seethed the Seer. "It is _currently_ summer holidays. We were just getting ready to go back to Durmstang. After our honeymoon."

"No." Harry shook his head. "No, I don't believe you. I can't have missed your wedding. I can't have."

"Well, you did. You were gone off without any word and nobody knew where to find you."

" 'Mione, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

Hermione harrumphed unforgivingly. "You can tell me what you were doing that was so important you had to disappear and miss your two best friends getting married!"

Harry lost himself in the pain for a moment.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione turned away and stormed back the way they'd come.

Ron was shaking as he looked after his wife. Then he turned on Harry.

"It's none of _our_ business?!" he demanded. "Fine. But I want _you_ to know, Harry, we looked for you. We had people searching all over as the date got near, but no one could find you! It's been four _months_, Harry. Four months with no owl, no firecall—you didn't even contact Ginny or Snape! The only reason we knew you were still alive was because Ginny's still alive. So you keep right on with your mantra that you don't owe anything to anybody. But we never gave up on you."

Ron stormed off as well. Harry stood there in the road, much shaken. They had looked for him. He'd let them down again and again and still they had looked for them. He was scum. He was shit. He was nothing and deserved nothing from them, and still they'd tried.

Shit. "That means I missed your graduation, too."

Ginny nodded, and smiled bravely like it didn't matter. "Neville brought a picture of you in case you didn't show up. He said he was sure you were there in spirit."

Harry grimaced. Still they'd tried. He didn't deserve this.

"Neville's still around then?"

"Yeah, in fact, he's usually…" Ginny turned back toward the house. "He's probably at the Burrow. He comes by most nights after work. Still at that greenhouse."

"Oh yeah?" The twins began their stroll back home, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Like everything could be normal if they just wanted it badly enough. "How's that going for him?"

"Good. They want to promote him, but it's a transfer. He says he doesn't want to be so far from his gran. But I don't know. I think there's more to it that he's not telling me."

Harry didn't doubt that. If Neville was still hanging around Ginny every night, it was quite likely he had another reason to avoid a transfer. But he didn't say that to Ginny. She was a smart girl. She could work it out for herself if she wanted.

XIXIX

XIX

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Chapter 18 cont'd in One in the World, Part II


	19. Only One in the World, Part II

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XIX

XIXIX "Only One in the World, Part II" XIXIX

Harry prayed he'd last in London until Dumbledore's funeral, but he'd long since learned that praying didn't do any good. In the secret of his heart where no thoughts could cause him pain, Harry feared disappearing at a time like this. Everyone would think he had run out on them, uncaring of their grief, hellbent on making thing worse. Part of him thought he shouldn't have come home. But he had. Now he had to do damage control, just in case.

So when Molly tried to put Harry into Fred and George's old room, Harry declined. He said he didn't want to be a burden, with everything else that was going on. Molly insisted he wouldn't be, but Harry could tell how tired she was anyway. The last thing she'd need is to take care of another person. Especially him. She seemed to accept this.

Instead, Harry went to the house on Grimmauld Place. It only occurred to him as he arrived that Remus might not come there anymore. After all, with Harry gone, there was nothing to tie him to the place. He might just stay at Durmstang all summer. He might have gotten himself a flat somewhere. The truth of it was that Harry really didn't know.

Against his will, he was pleasantly surprised when Remus walked into the living room, responding to the whoosh of the floo.

"Harry."

"Hi, Remus."

It was so good to see him, but they stood there staring at each other awkwardly rather than greeting each other properly. Remus was carrying a lamp in the otherwise dark room. He stood stiffly, but he looked good. He'd filled out to a healthy weight. His robes fit him properly. He looked like a regularly bloke, rather than an outcast werewolf like before. It made Harry happy to think of Remus doing so well.

"I was just tidying up the place," he said. "In case you came. I didn't know if you'd hear or not what had happened. You… you did hear, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Ginny told me. I was just over at the Burrow."

The two men stared at each in silence once again.

"Do you want some tea?"

Harry smiled. They moved into the kitchen and Remus prepared a pot. Harry leaned against the wall watching him.

"Are you staying here?" he asked.

Remus looked over and shook his head. "No. I just come through every so often to keep the place up for you. A weekend here or there."

"Remus, I want you to have the house," said Harry. Remus was already shaking his head but Harry persisted. "I've told you this before. I still mean it."

"Sirius left it for you. You'll want it one day."

Harry sighed. "Do you have your own place?"

"Durmstang. I teach summer classes, too. So I'm there year-round."

"Promise me you'll stay here, at least, if you ever do need a place. There's no point getting a flat or a house when you've got this here. Grimmauld Place wouldn't be the same without you, anyway."

Remus handed Harry a cup of tea. He stood very close and Harry noticed his nostrils flare. His eyes had a yellow tinge to them. He forced a smile. "I… I'll keep that in mind, Harry."

The werewolf leaned against the countertop and they stared at each other again. Harry had so much more to say, but didn't know where to begin with any of it. Or he couldn't.

"You missed your best friends' wedding," said Remus suddenly. "Hermione wasn't very happy about it." Harry looked at his feet.

"I know."

"Did you at least try?" he asked, as though it mattered.

"No." Quiet. Ashamed.

"Ah. Are you going to the funeral?"

"I don't know. You?"

"No. Full moon's tomorrow night, and… to be honest I don't know that I'd go anyway. Not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to the old man."

"I know what you mean."

They were silent again. It dragged on uncomfortably, but Harry was lost.

"So what have you been doing with yourself?"

Awkward small talk. Sure, Remus. Anything just to talk to you again.

"This and that. I was in Russia. Learned a bit of the language."

"You've been hurt," he said, and Harry cut him a sharp look. "I can smell it on you—damaged flesh recently healed, like blood on your hands. You're not happy, Harry. I can smell that on you too."

"You wouldn't know anything about it," Harry shot. He had to get away from this conversation before it took a bad turn.

"I know you're angry, and frustrated, and afraid. I won't pretend to know what's going on with you Harry, but I don't like it. I think you should come home."

"Remus…"

"I will too. I've got some money in the bank now. I can stay here with you. I'll help you sort out whatever… Harry," he said with an intensity that was almost scary, "I'll do anything you need me to do. If there's something—"

Harry pushed himself off the wall and looked away, breaking the spell between them. Remus meant it. His tone was one that offered to move mountains, to drain oceans. He really would do anything to help Harry. Harry didn't deserve that. Moreover, he couldn't accept it.

"I can't come home yet," he said. "I'm not… finished searching. I can't just come home and lead a pretty life. I don't have that option anymore. I can't do it, Remus. I wish I could. I miss you badly. All of you."

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Remus look away defeated. He nodded sadly. "We miss you too, Harry." He paused before adding, "You should go see Severus."

It was so quiet Harry almost missed it. Harry remembered the many arguments they'd had with and about Severus Snape. It must cost Remus a lot to make that suggestion.

"I will," he said.

Remus looked back to him. "He blames himself for you leaving. We all did."

"I said not to, in my letter. It wasn't because of anyone."

Remus coughed. "Yeah, but who would listen to a letter like that? You seemed half insane. We thought you'd gone off the deep end."

Harry smiled wryly. "Right. I'm sorry. I can't help it, but I'm sorry anyway." He meant that he could help needing to leave again, but he couldn't quite say it that way. Everyone would just have to go on believing he was insane. There was nothing else for it.

"You should go see Severus."

XIXIX

Harry apparated to Snape Manor later on that evening. The wards were open to him, but Harry chose to arrive in the front lawn. He felt worse and worse the longer he was home, like he was just teasing everyone with his presence before blowing back out of town again, tearing them all apart. That he didn't _want _to do it was no longer of consequence.

It was true that he couldn't control this about his life. But it was also true that he knew the repercussions. That he kept stringing them along by showing up without warning—his parting similarly unannounced—was now his choice. Every time he came home, he was choosing to cause the pain that he did in those that he loved.

He was going to have to say goodbye.

Knowing this, he couldn't bring himself to enter Severus' house. He couldn't apparate in, though he knew he'd be welcomed. He couldn't breach the calm of Sev's life with the dysfunction of his own. Instead, he stood in the lawn and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Severus came to him without taking the time to walk through the halls and out the front door. He apparated directly.

"I've been waiting hours," he said irritably. "You should have come sooner."

"I was with Ginny," he said. "And then Remus. It takes time."

"You should have contacted me, anyway. We _are_ bonded. Even a _thought_ my way would have been appreciated."

Harry scrubbed his hands over his face. "You could have come to me," he said, wondering why he was joining this argument when it was so completely beside the point.

"If I thought it was okay to come to you, I would have followed you across the world and back over the past year." Severus crossed his arms and glowered. Harry pursed his lips.

"Severus, look."

"No, I will not. I know perfectly well that you came here without any intention to stay. Or to come indoors, for that matter. I know you're on some pathetic endeavor to tunnel yourself into a maudlin world of self-pity. And I won't stand for it, Harry. There's been quite enough shit here, if you hadn't noticed. So come inside and tell me what is going on."

He wanted to.

"No, I can't, Severus."

"Yes, you can," he snapped angrily. "You don't even have to use words. You can just open your bond and…"

"Gods, stop it! I can't!" Harry thrust himself backward, out of the way of Sev's intentions. "Just leave it, Severus."

The older man was shrouded in shadows. "It doesn't have to be like this, Harry. We can…"

"No. No, we can't. Look, I hope. Hell, I _dream_ that one day I'll have a chance to deserve your forgiveness. But today isn't that day. I haven't been able to figure out my problems yet. And I can't make it up to you for all the Hell I've put you through. Not yet. So no, I'm not here to stay. And I won't come indoors. And I'll tunnel myself wherever I damn well need to!"

"Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? This is _me_ you're talking to, Harry. I'm not some enamored fan who will gobble up all this vague, mysterious rubbish you're spouting. _I know you_."

The younger man shook his head. "Not anymore, you don't. We've grown too far apart."

"No we haven't," declared Severus staunchly. "Our bond would have broken were that the case. I'm afraid you're still stuck with me."

Harry exhaled sharply. "Maybe it would be better if you just let me go, then. Merlin knows I'm not doing you any good."

He stepped away, preparing to apparate back out of his bondmate's life. "Goodbye," he whispered.

"Harry." Severus' hand clasped down on his shoulder. It was strong and comfortable, and promised a security Harry knew he couldn't have.

"Harry, stay."

Their eyes met and he wanted to, but then he was gone.

XIXIX

The funeral wasn't for another two days. Because it was Albus Dumbledore, arrangements needed to be made for the sheer number of people expected to attend. It would be an outdoor affair, on Hogwarts grounds.

Harry wanted to go. He wanted to say goodbye. Though he hadn't always made the best choices, Dumbledore had guided Harry's life in the wizarding world, had helped him grow in his powers, had helped shape him into the person he was. He wanted to be there to see the headmaster lain to rest.

But he had already made his decision to say goodbye to everyone else as well. He couldn't bring himself to go back to Grimmauld Place, or the Burrow. Instead he went to the Three Broomsticks and got himself a room. He hid out for the most part, waiting.

Many thousands of witches and wizards flooded Hogsmeade. Temporary buildings were erected for shelter. So many flowers were shipped through on their way to Hogwarts that a floral scent permeated the town. When Harry would venture out, he heard what seemed to be every language spoken. He reckoned close to the entire wizarding world was there.

The funeral began at dusk. Harry left his room just after. He wanted to stand apart, or to get lost in the crowds. He wanted there to be no possibility of running into anyone he knew. He wanted to be a nobody for just this one evening, lost and alone in his sorrows.

Dumbledore was buried in a small cemetery around the other side of the castle from the lake. Harry walked the path from Hogsmeade alone, joined the fringes of the crowd from behind. The fields sloped upward to the cemetery hill, offering a distant view of the proceedings. Harry watched as Dumbledore's body was lowered into the ground, as a wisp of golden light shone forth and an image of the man was created above. He could see quite clearly that Nicolas and Perenelle were closing the grave and erecting a small monument above it. He thought of their sweeter emotions, of their powers in love and friendship. He thought of their lessons in wandless spellcasting.

'They are quite powerful. Perhaps more so than me, after all the years they've had to grow.' Harry felt a burgeoning hope within him. 'Maybe Dumbledore wasn't the only one who could…'

Dumbledore.

(Look what happened to the object of his last hope.)

He squashed the thought immediately. They could not. Nicolas and Perenelle were not capable of such things. Harry wouldn't consider it. They couldn't stop Voldemort and there was nothing they could do to help him. He was alone in this, whatever _this_ was.

He shoved it from his mind, and instead considered the image of Dumbledore above, waving cheerfully to the weeping masses.

Harry remembered the first time he saw the headmaster at the opening feast when he'd first arrived at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had seemed eccentric and invincible, like nothing so common as death could touch him. Harry thought back to his adventures of that year, with Ron and Hermione, chasing after the philosopher's stone and facing Voldemort. He thought of what a prat Malfoy was back then, and wondered just how everything would have been different if he had only shaken his hand and been with him from the get-go.

"Hey."

Harry startled. Draco was standing next to him.

"What are you—? There's got to be twenty thousand people here. I didn't think I'd run into you."

Draco smirked. God, he looked good. His white-blonde hair was cut just above chin-length. He wore it loose, but tucked back behind his ears. His sophisticated robes were clever and tailored to accentuate his best features. He was stunning, but not quite in the traditional haughty Malfoy way. He looked like Draco, grown-up and beautiful.

Had it really only been a year? It seemed so much longer suddenly.

"It's good to see you too, Harry." Harry quirked a smile, but didn't recover quickly enough from his original rudeness. Draco continued with an arrogant flare.

"I flooed into the Three Broomsticks just as you were walking out the door. Followed you straight here. You didn't check your back once, you know. I guess you're not very concerned about stalkers, then, are you, Potter?"

"I should be so lucky. A young, dashing stalker, bent on watching my back and giving me safety advice." Harry smiled. "You look good, Draco."

"Yeah? You look like shit. Who dresses you nowadays? I know it's not Ginny. She's loads better taste."

Harry shrugged. "Just roll out of bed in whatever I'm wearing." There was more bitterness to the statement than Draco could understand. "Sorry," he added. "It's just…" he gestured to the funeral.

"No, it's okay. I didn't mean to bother you. Just thought I'd say hi." And the bantering was done. Draco was suddenly as distant as the last year, carefully extracting himself from any closeness to Harry.

He turned to go and Harry had a moment of weakness. "Draco, wait. You want to grab a drink? Maybe catch up a bit?"

XIXIX

"You own the business yet?"

A smirk. A sip. A sarcastic reply. "Well, _nominally_ the company is owned by Ciaron Blandish. But everyone who's anyone knows that the real power in this multinational emanates from my sales floor."

Harry snorted. "They call you for counsel when there's shipping problems in India, do they?"

"When I say jump…"

"They say, 'Who said that?'"

Draco let his mask falter and the two young men laughed drunkenly. Harry's left arm was splayed across the table; his right was propping up his chin as he gazed on. Draco was leaned back in his chair suavely, all debonair business gentleman except for his hair having gotten mussed.

"Seriously, you like your work?"

Draco looked off for a moment and Harry thought he saw true unhappiness there. Except then he smiled and said, "Yeah, I do. I'm really good at it, you know? When I'm there I feel like I've got it all right. Plus, word is they're offering me the trade management position next week. It's a cushy life. Good perks. Could get used to that kind of thing."

Harry scoffed. "You've always been used to that kind of thing."

"Too true. What about you? Ginny tells me you're gone off most of the time. What have you been doing this past year?"

Shadows fell over Harry's eyes. "Traveling around mostly. Nothing near as exciting as your work at the Mageria."

"Goes without saying. But have you been interesting places, I mean? Meet interesting people?" He paused but then tried to add seamlessly, "Traveling with anyone?"

Harry smiled. Took another drink. "Yeah, I've seen a lot of interesting things. And I've met a lot of interesting people. Word gets around when I'm there, you know? Everyone wants to hire me to… I dunno… fix their lives."

"But you don't travel with anyone in particular?"

"No. No, I don't do that. What about you? You seeing anyone?"

Draco shook his head. Took another drink. "No. Been real busy with work. You know how it is." Casual. Cool. Collected. But then his distant demeanor faded, to be replaced by a heated gaze. "Besides, who could really compare?"

Harry blushed red. His chest heated at the insinuation. This was a bad idea. It would be so much easier if Draco didn't give a damn about him. They could have a few drinks and then walk away. But, Jesus, Harry was sick of walking away. Maybe he could stay a bit. Just one last time.

"Still got that bird?" Draco had turned casual again. Harry could do this.

"Hedwig? Yeah. She's upstairs." Don't. "Did you want to see her?" No, you didn't just bloody say that!

Draco was taken aback. "You're staying _here_ at the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry thought of the places he'd turned down. Places where people loved him. This was a bad idea.

Draco sensed the subject was taboo. He lightened it easily with, "How ever did you get a room? The place must be booked solid." He stood up easily, downed the rest of his firewhiskey and thumped the glass back on the table. He looked down at Harry expectantly.

Harry looked back up at him.

"Well, come on, Potter. Let's go see your bird."

Don't.

Harry left his drink unfinished on the table.

He pulled himself up and edged past Draco, letting himself linger closely. Draco leaned in, met his eyes, looked him down and back up again. Harry could smell him. Musk and cologne and Draco. He cut through the crowd of mourners and headed for the stairs, intoxicated on something other than the drinks. Draco followed behind. Harry was very aware of him.

The third floor hallway was dark. Harry slid the key into the lock and he felt Draco's hand on his hip. His fingers snaked forward and then a body was pressed up against his back.

"Draco, I don't…" but then a nose was nuzzled against his ear and there were lips on his neck. Harry turned and caught those lips with his own. The door opened and he pulled Draco inside with him.

The blonde used this momentum to his advantage, kicking the door shut behind him. He pressed Harry on into the room until his legs collided with the mattress and he fell backward onto the bed. Draco tumbled on top of him, grinning, kissing, breathing heavily and working the buttons of his robes. He tasted so good.

Harry scrambled to pull his entire body onto the bed, but his one hand refused to let go the back of Draco's neck, threading fingers through hair and holding this fantastic person against him. This was how it should be. This was perfect.

He kicked off his shoes and Draco was pulling his shirt over his head and it was like not a day had gone by but at the same time it had been so long. Too long. Draco was pressing down upon him and the weight of his body was maddening, was lovely, was divine.

"I want you," he whispered as he settled between Harry's legs.

"God I've missed you," he hissed back, and there was that smile. Then their mouths were together again and their bodies were together again and over and over again that night they joined together again. They fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, wrapped around each other like they had never been apart.

Harry understood happiness again. It absolutely terrified him.

XIXIX

Draco woke late the next day. He was disoriented for a moment before remembering where he was and whom he was with. He rolled over with a smile and a bubbling feeling in his chest, but both vanished almost immediately. Harry wasn't there. Already the bed had grown cold.

He sat up and looked around. Beyond the furniture, the room was empty. None of Harry's personal belongings remained. Draco looked down to the note that was left on the other pillow. He picked it up, damning it already for its existence. Damning it for not being Harry here with him.

_**Draco,**_

_**I have a feeling I still love you. But I'm also pretty sure that I'm still no good for you. **_

_**Goodbye.**_

Harry 

Draco crumpled the note up in his fist. He pulled his knees up and rubbed his temples with his thumbs, cradling his head in his hands. He couldn't believe this had happened. It wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. He spread the note out and read it again.

'_I have a feeling that I still love you. But I'm also pretty sure that I'm still no good for you.'_

"Fuck you, Harry," he said to the empty room. "All you had to do was stay."

XIXIX

XIX

X


	20. When We Lie to Ourselves, Part I

X

XIX

XIXIX "When We Lie to Ourselves, Part I" XIXIX

**Ron and Hermione.**

Ron watched as Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door. "Mum? Dad? We're home!"

They stepped into the house, dragging about half of their luggage behind them. The other half was shrunk and stowed safely in their pockets. Last fall, Hermione's parents had refused to believe that the pocket-full of tiny items were sufficient to setting up their daughter's new home at her new job. They had argued about it endlessly. It nearly drove Ron crazy. It was so stupid. Her parents refused to understand the wizarding world. So, Hermione and Ron had taken to carrying their lighter bags with them so that it would look to the Grangers like they were proper muggle travelers.

Ron acquiesced to this and many other bizarre practices. It was the price one paid to be married to Hermione. Hermione Weasley.

Cecil strode into the living room with a large smile plastered onto his face. "How's my beautiful daughter?" he asked. "How was Majorca?"

Hermione smiled brilliantly, hugging her father hello. Ron shook his hand, also smiling like nothing was wrong. The Grangers didn't know about Dumbledore. The Grangers didn't know the two had come home from their honeymoon early to attend the funeral of the single most influential wizard on earth. They thought the young couple had only just returned, stopping at her parents' home for a few days before heading back to Durmstang.

"It was lovely, Dad. Absolutely wonderful."

"I'm glad to hear it. Come say hello to your mother. Dinner's just about ready."

As they walked through to the kitchen, Ron waved his wand and the luggage began walking up the stairs and into Hermione's old bedroom. Hermione started to tell him not to, but stopped. Ron caught the look in her eye and realized that walking luggage was probably not something her parents were used to. Like he was just supposed to _remember_ details like luggage had to be carried!

Cecil glanced over his shoulder disapprovingly, but said nothing.

"Sorry," whispered Ron. "I didn't…"

"It's alright," Hermione whispered back. "I imagine there's a lot we'll all have to get used to."

Edith ran forward and embraced her daughter happily. "_So_ good to see you, my dear! How was your honeymoon?" Without waiting for a response she hugged Ron too. "And how's my son-in-law? Enjoying the time off work, I imagine."

Ron shrugged but didn't answer the question. "Good to see you to, Mrs. Granger. Dentistry treating you well?"

The Grangers didn't know the exact details of Ron's job, so he made a point to never speak of it. They thought he had a boring desk job with the Ministry. The Grangers didn't know that he was researching death, death magic, and Dark creatures. They didn't know that Ron had had to sign his life away in order to take the job, and that Hermione had agreed to it. The Grangers had never heard the word 'Unspeakable' and they certainly didn't know that Ron was one of them.

Hermione's parents were happy only when their daughter's life was boring and uneventful. In order to get them to bless her marriage, she'd spent a lot of time trying to convince them that even though Ron was a full-blooded wizard raised in the magical wizarding world, his life was no more interesting than that of the average dentist.

Ron was willing to keep up this pretense, though he didn't quite understand how it worked. The Grangers had flipped out when they discovered the truth about Hermione being a Seer and a war hero after years of lies. Hermione's relationship with her parents only calmed down again once she'd started lying to them again. She maintained to Ron that as long as they lied about everything, everything would be okay. And despite past lies, her parents seemed to believer her. It didn't make a lot of rational sense, but apparently, denial is a powerful being.

Ron went along with it, but he slipped often. There were just so very many common things that alarmed the Grangers. It was hard for him to predict which wizarding normalcies would be considered fantastical in a muggle household.

They made small talk about the weather in Majorca, the beautiful island cabin they'd stayed in, the funny people they'd met while they honeymooned. Edith finished cooking dinner and Cecil arranged the table on the patio. Hermione got everyone's drinks situated and Ron stood there helplessly in the muggle kitchen.

They sat down and Edith began serving food, beginning by loading three chicken legs onto Ron's plate. Ron looked away quickly, trying desperately to hide his disgust. Hermione jumped to the rescue.

"Mum," she said, taking Ron's plate from him and trading it with her dad's. "Ron's a vegetarian, remember?"

Edith actually looked embarrassed. She had clearly forgotten that important fact. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ron. Let me go fix you something else."

"No, it's okay, Ms. Granger. This is plenty, really. Everything looks great." Ron grabbed up the salad bowl and served himself.

Edith looked unsure, but then reseated herself. They passed the food around the table in a somewhat awkward silence. Ron tucked in and made sure to compliment all the dishes he did eat.

"Yes, Edith, everything is lovely," said Cecil as he ate his chicken.

Ron could again hear disapproval in his tone, but Hermione kept saying that it was very promising that her parents tried so hard to be civil after all the fights they'd had over the past two years. It was only a matter of time before civility became friendliness, and then full acceptance into the family. There just hadn't been enough time yet, that was all.

The Grangers hadn't wanted Hermione to remain attached to the wizarding world after they learned about the war and the dangers their daughter had been in. They certainly hadn't wanted her to marry into that world. But neither had they wanted to lose their daughter, and they'd known Ron long enough to know that he was a nice enough boy. For a wizard. They were making an effort. It was a good thing, Ron told himself.

"Are you a vegetarian for animal rights reasons?" asked Cecil, trying to prompt the conversation forward.

Ron didn't quite understand the question, but he figured out what Cecil probably meant to ask and did his best to answer. "Oh, I've never eaten anything that could talk," he assured. "I know it happens all the time, but it's just so… uncivilized."

Edith and Cecil stared at him blankly. Ron plunged on in his explanation.

"It just seems obvious the way the Ministry keeps revising the 'beast' and 'being' status of so many creatures, that it's best to err on the side of caution. You wouldn't want to eat someone whose children you might wind up doing business with later on."

Edith and Cecil traded horrified looks.

"I mean, just look at the Centaurs. They're adamantly against accepting 'being' status. You wouldn't eat one of them, would you?"

"Of course not, Ron," said Hermione pointedly, looking to her parents. Her parents looked back to her and some unknown conversation played out silently in front of the wizard at the table.

"No," said Edith slowly. "I can't say I ever _would_ eat a Centaur."

Ron nodded and gestured with a piece of potato on his fork. "Too right you wouldn't. Because you're decent folk." He was pleased that they shared his opinion. Edith smiled at him tentatively as well.

"So how long have you been a vegetarian?"

Ron's eyes grew distant for a moment. "I guess since my brother died," he said. "It just gave me a… a different understanding of life, you know?"

Edith and Cecil both nodded gravely. Edith gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Ron. How did your brother die?"

Ron paused.

'I beat him to death after he kidnapped and tortured my sister. Your daughter tried to stop me, which gave me time to really consider what I was doing. And I did it anyway. I still have nightmares about her calling my name at that last moment before I murdered him.'

He took a breath. "He died in the war."

Edith and Cecil traded looks again. Not even Ron could miss their discomfort at the mention of the war. Hermione smiled at him and he smiled back. They were making an effort. Everything would be okay.

XIXIX

Later that night, Ron and Hermione were lying awake in Hermione's bedroom, listening to her parents argue. This was an entirely new phenomenon to Ron. It took him nearly half an hour to figure out why they hadn't cast a silencing spell on their room while they fought. Then he'd felt like an idiot. Another detail lost to him.

It must have been awful for Hermione to grow up listening to her parents fight like this. Granted, he was no stranger to listening to his mother scold himself or his siblings, but an argument like this never would have touched their ears. It was so… disrespectful.

"You were the one who was _just so happy_ when she received that letter! I never should have let you send her off to that school!"

"What else _could we_ have done?! She cost her school almost $15,000 pounds replacing those lockers!"

Ron looked to Hermione. She looked miserable as she stared at the ceiling.

"The other kids would shut me inside the lockers whenever I broke the curve on a test," she said. "One day they couldn't get any of the lockers to open in order to put me in. The school wound up having to buy an entire new set."

Ron smiled at her kindly. "Good one," he said.

Hermione attempted a smile back.

"You're the one who insisted we let her marry that boy! Just today he made their luggage walk! In _my_ house!"

"And I suppose it's _my fault_ that you forced her to run away from home last Christmas! You keep pushing her away! _Of course_ she's going to go straight to… to _those people_!"

"Well, what do you want me to do? The damage is done! She already married him!"

Ron's wife groaned and covered her face with one hand. She looked embarrassed.

"Hermione…"

"Ron, I'm so sorry."

"Hermione, I'm going to go on back to Durmstang."

"No, it'll be fine in the morning. They just need to get it out of their system."

Ron shook his head. "No, love. It's worse than that. We need to stop lying to ourselves. Your parents aren't going to 'come around' and start liking me one day."

"They just need more time," she pleaded, trying to hold on to the comfort of denial. But even Ron could tell she didn't believe, now that he had called her on it, and it had been said out loud. But then he felt bad.

"Well… more time than tonight, at least," he added. "They're not going to like me come morning, and I don't think I can smile and pretend I haven't been listening to them talk smack about me and my family all night."

"So you want us to go?"

"No, no. You can stay. It's your family and they love you. You should be able to stay and visit with them. I know you've been looking forward to it. But they don't want me here. And I'm not sure I really want to be here, either. I don't fit in here. I don't belong in this world."

"_His family cavorts with werewolves!_" thundered Cecil from the next room.

Hermione looked at him apologetically. "I'll see you in two days," she said. "They _will_ come around."

"If you say so," said Ron, but he no longer believed it. There was no point in lying to himself about it anymore. If marrying their daughter wasn't enough to change their minds about him, what was the point?

"It _surprises you?!_" shrilled Edith. "That whole world is dangerous! They had a war that could have killed everyone! And none of us even knew about it!"

Ron froze in the process of packing. He had a sinking feeling in his gut.

"We have to tell them, Edith," said Cecil loudly, harshly. "We can't keep silent any more. We have to tell everyone that witches and wizards exist, that they have terrible powers that could destroy the world."

Hermione sat up abruptly. She and Ron stared at each other, mouths agape in horror.

"They'd never believe us! Do _you_ want to be the crazy person saying that magic exists?!"

Hermione was paling. Ron suspected he was as well.

"We'll collect evidence. Hard proof. And we'll leak it to the appropriate authorities."

"Merlin's beard, 'Mione! You've got to stop them."

"Ron…"

"No, you have to stop them! They can't break the statute of secrecy. The Ministry wouldn't let their memories survive intact."

"I don't know what to do." Hermione chewed on her lip. Her parents' voices had finally dulled to a murmur in the next room, presumably while they worked on their plan to reveal the wizarding world to the muggle population at large.

"Talk to them," he said. "I'll go. I won't bring magic into their house anymore. Tell them anything to make them stop this. Whatever it takes."

"Ron, I'm not going to ask you to stay out of my parents' home forever!" Her voice was exasperated, fearful.

"Hermione, listen to me. This is bigger now, more important than whether they'll accept me." He walked over to her, leaned in seriously. "A lot of bad things could happen if the muggles found out about us. The Ministry will never allow it to happen. If you don't do whatever it takes to stop them, they will."

Hermione nodded. "Go," she said. "I'll talk to them."

XIXIX

**Draco.**

Draco was closing up for the night. It'd been a bloody awful day. Sixteen of his shipment of twenty talking mirrors had arrived broken and wailing. An old witch had taken two hours of his time amassing a pile of expensive items to buy, only to realize she'd forgotten her money purse—thereby wasting two precious _hours_ worth of sales commissions that Draco could have made with other customers. A teenage couple had broken into the supply closet to snog. Then, when he'd chased them out of the store, they knocked over the huge display case by the front door. StickyBounce™ Memo Balls went flying everywhere. It created such a mess. Draco was still finding blank notes in the most random spots.

He had never been happier to lock the door for the night. He sank into a chair in the employee break room and got back to work on his report. His immediate supervisor, Brigit Joyner, had asked him to write up a summary of his time here at the Mageria, noting all major sales and business contacts made. She hinted that these reports tended to be filed next to promotion papers. Draco had hardly had time to work on it with everything that had gone wrong during business hours. So he stayed after the rest of the staff had headed home for the night. He was going to have this baby on Brigit's desk first thing in the morning.

Then everything would be good. He'd get his promotion and start climbing his way to the top of the business community. He'd be a success. He'd be able to have everything he wanted.

_Except Harry._

Draco sat back in his chair and carded his hands through his hair. He shouldn't be upset by Harry taking off again. He should have expected it all along. This was how Harry behaved. He made you feel wonderful and he told you he loved you and then he disappeared. Why had he thought this one chance meeting would be any different than two years' worth of relationship drama?

He stood up and paced. "I hate you," he said aloud, wishing it were true. If only he didn't have this one heartache, Draco could be truly happy right now. Everything else in his life was going right for once. Why did he have to let his ex-boyfriend crush his good spirits, his perfect world?

Draco looked at the unfinished report on his desk. "Right, then. To happiness." He reached over to pull out his chair and froze. He heard a noise out front.

'One of the self-serve tea sets could have gotten loose again,' he thought, but some instinctual twinge in his stomach didn't believe it. He drew his wand and slipped quietly to the break room door. He eased it open and looked around the dark sales floor.

Nothing.

Draco disillusioned himself, just to be safe, and padded into the empty room. It was large and neatly organized. Those items that needed to be secured at night had been so. Nothing was moving, and no one was there. But something felt wrong. Draco didn't lower his wand as he moved through the aisles to investigate. He heard the noise again—a loud rattling. He steadied himself in a crouch, combat ready, as he made his way toward the noise. It was somewhere in the vicinity of the front door.

Draco approached it with extreme caution. As he drew near he cast a quick spell to ascertain it was locked. It was. He had his eyes, ears, and magic trained so purposefully on that door in front of him that he jumped when he heard the noise to his immediate left.

His heart thudding, Draco stood and laughed at himself for his alarm. It was the StickyBounce™ Memo Balls display case. No doubt some of the Memo Balls were still agitated from their adventures earlier, bouncing all over the store and generally ruining an already bad day. He shook his head while he laughed, his blond hair falling into his eyes.

"Bit jumpy, there, Draco," he said to himself. He tapped his wand to his head, dissolving the disillusionment charm, and turned back toward the break room. He was facing away from the display case when it exploded. Draco went flying through the air. He slammed face-first into the cashier's counter and fell to the floor.

His head spinning, he tried to regain himself. He moaned lowly at the exertion of attempting to push himself up. But he fell still when he heard the laughter.

"I can't believe that worked! Blew a hole clean through the front of the building!" Young voice. Male.

"Of course it worked. I told you I was brilliant." Young voice. Female.

"Shut up, the both of you! We've got work to do. If an alarm's been triggered we have under three minutes." Adult male.

Shit. Draco hadn't set the alarm because he was still inside the store. Unless some third party on the street happened by or contacted the Aurors, he was alone. Quietly and without movement, he tried to assess his situation. His nose was broken and bleeding freely. But as the dust settled and his head cleared, he realized he could see fine. Mild or no concussion. His wand was not in his hand; it lay under his leg. He prayed it wasn't snapped. As long as they didn't see him lying there, he'd have the element of surprise in any confrontat…

"Well, what do we have here?" A foot nudged into his back.

Shit.

"Boss! We got a live one!" The younger man grabbed a handful of Draco's hair and jerked his head backward. Draco moaned. But while it did hurt, he was far more interested in making himself look completely out of it. If he didn't seem like a threat, maybe they'd leave him be and go about their business. He rolled his eyes into the back of his head and stayed limp in the person's grasp. He eased his leg up slightly, freeing his wand from underneath it.

Footsteps came close. Two sets. Draco tried to visualize their proximity based on the sound. Three to one at least. He could probably do it, but he wanted to see them. He wanted to know whom he was dealing with.

He rolled his eyes this way and that, letting his lids droop and open in an uncontrolled fashion. He was so stupid. He should have seen it coming. The guy holding his hair was that twit from the supply closet. And sure enough, one of the people approaching was the girl he'd been snogging. They'd knocked over the display case, tossing a time-activated bomb inside it, and Draco had been none the wiser since he was too busy trying to reorganize the Memo Balls.

The older man was familiar too, but Draco couldn't quite place him.

"Oh, sweet Merlin," said the girl. "It's that bloody annoying sales clerk. He was gliding around the place all haughty, like he was Lucius fucking Malfoy."

The others tittered. Draco did not react.

"He awake?" asked the unidentified boss.

"I don't think so." Draco's hair was released and he slumped against the counter. He let his hand fall next to his wand.

"Tie him up. I don't want any problems."

Draco listened to every movement very carefully, still trying to visualize where everyone was and what they were doing. The scrape of dust and rubble as feet were resettled. The rustle of fabric as the guy above him leaned down, and then… the light tap of a wand against his shoulder. Draco wasted no time.

Before he could be magically bound, he moved. In one clean swoop he grabbed his wand and then brought his elbow back up into the guy's crotch. He swung his hand back out, flicking his wrist, and disarmed the boss. The girl stumbled backward in surprise. Draco disarmed her as well. The guy next to him fell to his knees with a groan, both hands firmly between his legs. Two wands clattered to the floor.

Draco trained his wand on the boss. He pulled himself to his feet. "Put your hands up," he said. The man complied. Draco stared at him. There was something familiar… of course.

"You've changed," he said. The little old lady he'd spent two hours with that afternoon stood before him, six inches taller, and male.

He really should have seen all of this coming.

Draco bound the three would-be robbers and left them on the floor while he contacted the Aurors. Next, he put in a call to his boss, who promised to be there as soon as possible. Then, he leaned against the cashier's counter, surveyed the damage to his store, and thought about his week.

Nothing was right anymore. He didn't love his job, no matter how good he was at it. It wasn't what he wanted at all. He didn't _want_ to be Lucius fucking Malfoy. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps, not even his legitimate business footsteps. He'd been lying to himself to stay here so long. It had been a year already, and truth be told, he had not been truly happy a single day yet. Why had he kept telling himself he was?

He had thought he would want a quiet life, after the war. After Harry. But Draco was bored. He was bored and unhappy and unfulfilled and lonely, and it wouldn't matter if he got this promotion or not. He could never be a success where he was, because he would never accomplish anything worthwhile.

Draco stared down at the three people glaring up at him. Stopping them from wiping the Mageria clean had been the most rewarding thing he'd done since he could remember. It wasn't right. Nothing was right anymore.

The Aurors arrived before Brigit Joyner did, but only just barely. They were escorting the burglars from the store when she rushed in.

"Draco! Thank Merlin you're safe! Why were you here after hours? Oh, but it's so lucky you were! We could have lost everything. Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine, Brigit. I stayed late to finish that report when they broke in. There's a goodly amount of damage, but nothing was stolen."

Brigit smiled. "This is going to look very good on your report, Draco. Or should I say… Mr. Trade Manager."

"Yeah, listen, Brigit. About that…"

"It's nothing. It was a done deal already. There's no one better for the post, and after this? Draco, I wouldn't be surprised if Ciaron Blandish himself comes down to set up your new office."

Draco considered this. The owner of the multinational Mageria, coming down to meet him. He could really succeed in this business. He could make a killing.

_Just like Lucius fucking Malfoy._

"I quit." He said it so suddenly it even surprised himself. Brigit stared at him. "I don't want to do this the rest of my life," he said.

Brigit stuttered. "This is the first break-in we've had in years. It's a safe job, really."

"It's not that. And really, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been a great boss, Brigit, but… this job isn't for me. Good luck to you. And thanks for your support. I know you were really pushing for this promotion for me. It does mean a lot."

"Draco, I want you to consider this," she said.

"I did. And I quit."

Brigit was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I'll give you two weeks paid vacation. Contact me by the end of it if you want your job back. I'll hold the promotion for you as well. I mean it, Draco. Consider what you're doing. You're a valuable asset to this company."

Draco shook his head. "That's just it. I don't want to be an asset. I want to be a person."

XIXIX

**Neville.**

"It won't do any good. You know how stubborn he is."

Ginny looked so frustrated and Neville's heart ached for her. But he knew she was right. She knew her twin better than anyone else on this planet, and if she said Harry was gone for good, then Harry was gone for good. Still, he tried. He really wanted to be right about this one, given the alternative.

He wanted her to feel better.

"But surely if _you_ told him to come back, he would. He'd do anything for you, Ginny."

Ginny blew out her cheeks, beautiful and irritated. "It would just be a fight," she said. "He'd come home, we'd fight, he'd leave again. There's no point. We can still get on long distance, even if we don't really talk anymore…" She trailed off, eyeing the middle distance. Neville studied her face.

"Did you even tell him you graduated salutatorian?"

"Nah, he'd just feel worse for not being there. I'm telling you, something _is_ going on that's keeping him away. I only wish he'd tell me what it was. I'd join him."

Neville's heart thudded. "It could be dangerous, though. You hear the stories of what he's been up to… fighting banshees and ogres and Dark wizards. I mean, it's heroic, sure, but… you could be killed."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Like that matters. If Harry gets killed, I'm dead anyway. I'd rather be with him. If he would let me. Anyway, we made it through the war. How much worse could it be out there than that?"

"It's dinnertime!" called Mrs. Weasley. She stuck her head through the door and added, "Neville, dear, go wash your hands." She always treated him like a little boy. Everyone did. It bothered him sometimes. But he complied with a smile. No use upsetting anyone by arguing.

They were settling in a few minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Ginny and Neville, when there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Weasley started to get up, but Neville beat her to it. It was only polite. She had cooked dinner for him. The least he could do was answer the door.

"No, don't get up. I'll answer it," he said cheerfully, already moving toward the front door. He opened it with a smile on his face. The smile nearly vanished when he realized who it was.

"Oh, hello, Neville."

"Hi."

Neville stood there staring at him, part of him hoping the wizard in front of him would simply turn around and walk away. Or better yet, disapparate. Disappear completely. Never return.

"Is… Ginny here?"

"Um…"

"Neville, who is it?"

Ginny walked out of the kitchen and Neville looked at her guiltily over his shoulder. He shouldn't have been plotting to get rid of her guest. But he reconsidered the ethics of that when her face split into a huge grin.

"Oh my god!" she squealed, and ran into the open arms of Lokstavian Azghard. Neville stood on the sidelines, ignored completely. The former Slytherin picked her up and swung her around. Ginny's family came out to see what all the commotion was.

"Mum, Dad, this is Lokstavian," she gushed.

"How nice to meet you," said Ginny's dad.

"Can you stay for supper?" said Ginny's mum.

Ginny's brother looked to Neville. Neville gave him a half smile. The door was still open, and Neville hadn't brought anything with him, so without saying anything, he slipped out of the Weasley household and closed the door behind him.

Ginny was never that happy to see him. Ginny never ran into his arms. Ginny didn't feel the same way Neville felt when they were together. And she wasn't going to. Even if he came by for dinner every night. Even if he brought her pretty flowers from the greenhouse at work. Even if he tried to make her feel better about her twin running off again.

Neville wasn't going to keep living his life like everything could change if he was just polite enough. Dumbledore was dead. The world had turned upside down. But what remained the same was Ginny's absolutely platonic feelings for him. It was time he moved on.

Neville went back home and told his gran he was going to take the promotion that would send him to the Americas. She fussed and fussed, but Neville didn't pay a wit of attention to it. This was the only way he could say goodbye to Ginny. He knew he wouldn't have the strength to stay away from her if he was physically close.

He wondered suddenly if that was why Harry stayed so far away.

XIXIX

XIX

X

Continued in Chapter 21, When We Lie to Ourselves, Part II


	21. When We Lie to Ourselves, Part II

X

XIX

XIXIX "When We Lie to Ourselves, Part II" XIXIX

**Ginny.**

Ginny and Lokstavian walked into town after dinner. She grinned secretly when he slipped his hand into hers, twining their fingers together intimately. She hadn't seen or heard from him in over a year, not since his father had dragged him out of Hogwarts like an errant House Elf. She hadn't expected she'd ever see him again. She certainly hadn't expected him to show up on her doorstep just days after Harry blew out of town. Again.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly. "With Dumbledore and all, I mean."

Ginny shrugged. "It's hard to believe he's gone."

Loki nodded. "That it is."

"Were you at the funeral?"

"Yeah. Then, since we were in town anyway, my dad took the opportunity to meet with a few business clients. I thought maybe I'd pop by, see how you've been." He looked at her sidelong. "See how much you've missed me."

"It's been hard to survive," Ginny deadpanned.

"Good to hear, good to hear."

And she laughed. What was it about this guy that just took all her worries away? It was like how she used to feel around Harry, but… she shook the thoughts out of her head.

"What have you been up to?" she asked. "What school are you at now?"

"Archelon," he answered breathlessly, waving his hand through the air as though the gods themselves were writing the name across the sky. "It's nothing like Hogwarts, really, but my father's quite impressed by it. Archelon is supposedly the best private preparatory schooling money can buy. But I don't know. It's stuffy and traditional. And no one's crafty there. Cleverness is not a virtue at that school. Following rules is. Blech!"

Ginny grinned. "Well, it's only one more year. I'm sure you'll make it through."

"Here's hoping. Anyway, you're graduated now. What are your plans?"

"Auror training," said Ginny simply. Lokstavian stopped in his tracks.

"You're having me on."

Now Ginny looked surprised. "No. No, of course not. What do you mean?"

Loki dropped his jaw. "The last time I saw you they had you in restraints. You really want to join those people?"

"Those people were doing their jobs. It's those crackpot Ministry leaders who are the problems, not the Aurors. They really are doing a lot to help people. And I've got a lot of fighting experience in the war and with the DA. I think I could really do a lot of good as an Auror."

"But you'll be working for those same crackpot Ministry leaders."

"For now. But really, Lokstavian, if we want to change things we have to get involved. And I know I couldn't rise through politics… they've made damned sure that my name is mud. If I ever ran for office, every paper will be screaming to remind people of past accusations. People will forget how unfounded they are."

"But your name is safe in a hired position?" he asked, trying to see the point she was driving at.

"I'll be able to hunt Dark witches and wizards. I'll be able to do a lot of good. I'll work hard, hopefully impress my immediate bosses with my ethic. Later on, I can work to oust corruption with history on my side—a long career of work within the Ministry, fighting Darkness."

"Ever the optimist."

"And don't you forget it."

"What do your parents say to all this?"

Ginny made a face. "They were supportive until Dumbledore died. One of the Aurors disappeared, did you hear? An old friend of the family. He had a, ah, an _alternate idea_ of what had happened to Dumbledore. And then he was gone."

"They think the same might happen to you if you start trying to… oust corruption?"

They walked on in silence for a minute. "I'll be careful," Ginny said. "I'll watch my back."

Lokstavian smiled. "It would be good though, if you had someone else to watch it for you. I don't know…"

"My mind's made up," she said. "Training starts in two weeks. I've already registered."

"I propose… a different plan." His voice became light again. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Oh? What do you propose?"

"I propose we run off tonight and get married in the Himalayas."

Ginny pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "Loki," she began, "I haven't seen you in over a year. Your father thinks I'm witch trash. You're still in school. I'm about to join the Aurors. I don't know that it's the best idea."

"But you'll think about it?"

Now she laughed. "No."

"Well," his look turned serious now. "Can we see each other again, at least? Can I make a point to be in town so that we see each other again?"

Ginny considered this. In almost a year and a half he hadn't so much as sent her an owl, but here he was again. She remembered when she'd first noticed him, when they'd first met. Harry had been sneaking away, closing off their bond in that horrible way—and then there was Loki. He could make her laugh, and he had stayed at her side like no one… like _Harry_ never did. Until he, too, had disappeared.

But maybe it would be different this time. He'd come back on his own, and Ginny couldn't help but contrast that fact with Harry's most recent storm—blowing through town in the wake of a disaster, and then leaving with a mind to be gone forever. And two days later, Loki came back to her. There was something karmic about it all, like the universe was finally giving Ginny something good she might be able to keep.

"Yeah," she said. "We can see each other again."

XIXIX

**Harry.**

The wizard at the bar raised three fingers and the bartender poured him another. He was slumped forward miserably, and a long walk already toward getting himself good and pissed. He was tempted to think of this as the worst day of his life, the first day of his life without anyone who loved him, but… well, Harry knew better than to try and catalogue any more days as his worst. There had been too many worst days already, and so things would have to get really quite horrific in order to beat out all the others. Harry didn't want to tempt fate.

"You all right, Mr. Potter?" asked the bartender.

Harry nodded, straightened himself on the stool. He knew if he looked too trashed he'd get cut off, and he wasn't yet trashed enough for that.

He realized that hope was his problem. Ever since he first arrived at Hogwarts, no matter how scared he was, he had always believed that ultimately everything would be okay. Good would triumph over evil. The mystery would be solved. His friends would come around eventually, and would still love him. Because ultimately, good things happened in the wizarding world. He had support there. He had strength.

But here he was now, helpless and alone. He downed his latest double shot of rum, signaled for another, and reviewed the facts as he knew them. (As he was able to think about them.)

One. He held up a finger in front of his face to focus on. For two years now, I have inexplicably been losing chunks of my life from my memory.

Harry waited, but no pain came ripping through his head. He thought of disappearing, and the pain smashed through him, scattering his thoughts. He focused on his forefinger. There were times he couldn't remember. The pain subsided, and it gave him an idea.

Harry waved the bartender over, wondering if that was something he could say out loud. He could think it without pain, so why not? He would say, 'There are times in my life that I can't remember,' just to test it out. Maybe it was okay to have hope. Maybe he just needed to be cleverer than he'd been before.

The bartender strolled back over to him. He glanced down at the still full drink, back up to Harry. "Yes, sir?"

Harry opened his mouth to repeat his thought aloud, but somewhere in the pathway from thoughts to words, the sentence became forbidden somehow, and a jolt of fire ripped through his brain, setting flight to the words. He quickly thought of other things, unrelated to his memory lapses. Rum is good. Again, the pain subsided.

"I like your rum," he said. The bartender nodded, giving Harry a look that was probably pity. Harry didn't care. "That's all," he said. The bartender said thanks, and walked back away.

Two. Harry held up a second finger. I am unable to speak, write, or communicate in any way what has been happening to me.

Whenever anyone tried to discuss it with him, the pain came, his brain shut down, and apparently he started screaming at them, judging by his friends' reactions. His bondmates complained that he closed them off. Harry had no memory of this. He had no control over this. Whatever was happening to him had… some sort of failsafe that kept him from getting outside help.

He ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his aching head. It was killing him just to think that much about it. He knew he'd never be able to express it out loud. He'd never be able to tell anyone. Not even Ginny. Not even Severus.

Three. A third finger joined the other two. He noticed his hand was shaking for this one. He'd danced around this thought before, but never admitted it to himself full-out. He drained his rum, brought his three fingers back up in front of his face.

Three. I might have killed Dumbledore.

It felt like his head exploded. Harry brought his forehead down to the bar with a loud thunk. He focused on this natural pain, forgot about Dumbledore. Slowly, the pieces of his head came back together.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked up. The bartender was standing over him, clearly unsure of what to do. Harry suspected any other patron would have been thrown out by now, but he was Harry Potter.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just having a bad day. I'm okay."

"I think you should head home, Mr. Potter," he said kindly, gently.

Harry thought of home and shook his head. "No, if it's okay, I'll sit here for a little while longer. Need to sober up a bit before I head out." As though to punctuate his disinclination for further alcohol, he turned his glass upside down. He nodded to the bartender, who nodded back uncertainly.

Harry did want more alcohol. But he had nowhere else to go. He was in a "traditional Irish pub" in Prague, that somewhat surprising employed an actual Irishman as barkeep. Harry had chosen the city as his next destination almost at random. Leaving the Three Broomsticks yesterday morning, he'd overheard a friendly-looking couple talking about how good it would be to get back to Prague. Harry hadn't been there yet, so off he went. It was somewhere new, and far enough away that he felt very far away.

Four. Since I can't tell anyone what's going on, and I might be doing terrible things, it is far better for all those concerned if I just stay the hell away from them.

Harry knew this was true. But he really didn't want to accept it. That was why hope was his major problem. He kept teetering on this edge, this balance between hope of being saved, and acceptance of what actually was. His hopes had been dashed at every point over the past two years, but still he clung to them. He knew he needed to abandon them. And he had to do it now if he were going to succeed in staying away from the people he loved.

He needed another drink.

He thought of Remus, who thought Harry had lied to him and avoided him over the past two years. Remus was better off without him. He thought of Ron and Hermione, whose wedding he had missed. They were better off without him. He thought of Severus, who thought Harry left last year because they had kissed, who probably thought Harry was taking advantage of his love. Severus was better off without him. He thought of Ginny, who shared a twin bond with him stronger than any other twin bond on record. And who couldn't possibly understand the subsequent distance between them. She was better off without him. He thought of Draco, sleeping next to him with that damned gorgeous smile creeping onto his lips as he dreamed something nice. Draco would always be better off without him.

Harry took in a shuddering breath. God, he missed them. He wanted them all back. He wanted to settle down and love and be loved. He wanted to convince himself that he was better off without them all, but he couldn't think of any reason he was. Only that they were better off without him. It would have to be enough. They couldn't help him. And he only hurt them.

Abandon all hope, Harry Potter. Nothing will ever be right for you again.

He wished, briefly, that he could just kill himself and be done with it. Except if he died, Ginny would as well. And Harry wanted her to live. He loved her so much it was painful. He wished with all his might that someone would come into the bar, that he'd turn around and Draco would be there, having followed him when he left. He wished that someone, anyone, he loved would arrive and tell him it was okay to still have hope.

Harry turned to the door. No one came through. He abandoned his hope that it was possible for him to keep his hope. He would have to be alone, and that was that. He could never be with his loved ones again. And god, he wasn't strong enough for that. He would go crazy alone, and would just wind up going back to hurt everyone all over again.

A thought struck him. What he really needed right now was an acquaintance. He needed someone that he didn't love, wouldn't love, to come and keep him company.

He heard the door open behind him and he swallowed his heart. It wasn't Draco. It wasn't Severus. It wasn't Ginny. No one was coming for him. There would be no rescue.

The stool next to him slid back with a loud scrape against the floor, and someone plonked down unceremoniously to his left. "Ryan, give me a Midnight Cinderella," she called out. "Make it strong."

Harry looked up as the young woman dropped her bag heavily onto the floor next to him and sighed deeply. The bartender came over with a tall glass of pumpkin juice and fire whiskey. He gave the woman a medium smile.

"So, Mala," he said, "Are we celebrating or commiserating?"

She gave him a pained look. The bartender nodded. "This one's on the house," he said.

"Thanks, Ryan," she said.

"What are you going to do?"

Mala shrugged. She was a pretty young woman about Harry's age with straight brown hair, light brown skin, and dark brown eyes. She looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place her.

"The bank is going to auction off the house, the land, all of our possessions. I'll stay until then. I just want to meet the buyers, you know? Make sure they're good people."

"And after that?"

"No idea. I don't have any money left. I guess I'll go back to England and try to get my old job back."

"I thought you hated that job."

"I did. But what else am I gonna do? My Czech isn't good enough to stay here and work, and anyway I don't have any family left to keep me here. I have family in Spain, but my name freaks people out there."

"Sorry," said Harry, too drunk to be embarrassed for interrupting a stranger's conversation. "What's your name?"

She looked to him and gave him a sort of rueful smile. "Mala Suerte Radinavich. It means 'bad luck' in Spanish. My mother was… wait a minute. I know you!"

She stuck out her hand toward him with a genuine smile. "Harry Potter! You don't remember me, of course, but we met at the DMV!"

Harry shook her hand, thinking back. Then it hit him. "Lucky 13," he said. "You let me jump in line. I never got to thank you for that."

She waved him away. "It was your birthday, and anyway, I knew I'd wind up failing and having to come back again. Took me five times to pass, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"Five times?!" Harry was not quite drunk enough that he couldn't realize how rude he sounded. He cringed in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I know!" she said. "That day that I traded with you, a gremlin actually broke into the DMV and messed with the magic in the sigils so that they kept moving around. But, get this! The _only_ group that was affected was the one I was in! Everyone failed. Our instructor had already marked our paperwork before they figured out what had happened, and since the paperwork is charmed to only allow people one test per day, there was nothing for it but for all of us to return again. Just my luck!"

"So it's not that you can't apparate…"

Mala Suerte nodded. "Outside forces kept me from proving I could. I have the worst luck of anyone on Earth. And people ask what's in a name!" She took a huge gulp of her mixed drink, made a face, and took another drink.

"Why did your parents name you that?"

Ryan snorted and moved to deal with other customers. Mala looked after him for a moment before turning back to Harry. "My mother was from a superstitious town in Spain. She was muggle-born, so when weird things started happening around her, everyone said she was cursed. I think she believed it, too, even after she joined the wizarding world. My father was Czech, but he was living in London when they met. Whirlwind romance, and all of that. They'd known each other less than a year when I was born. They were walking down the street on Friday the 13th, and a black cat crossed their path. My mother went into labor right then. They hopped a muggle taxi to get to hospital; it got into a wreck. When they finally made it to St. Mungo's, there was a ladder set up right by the door, so when they walked in, they walked under it. A man died in the waiting room right next to them while they were registering. Then, while I was being delivered, the mediwitch knocked into the tray of instruments, and…" Mala smiled as she told the story from rote memory, "A mirror fell to the floor and shattered."

"Holy cow," said Harry.

"Yeah, I know. Like, every bad superstitious thing that could happen. My father figures that mum thought it was her curse. No one could find any reason for her to have died from the labor. He believes that she just gave up. Her last words were, 'Mala suerte.' Pop thought she was naming me. He didn't speak Spanish." She smiled again, reminding Harry of Neville. He, too, could be cheerful regarding the most dire of circumstances.

"That is one hell of a story," he said.

"The story of my life…" She laughed, but then her smiled turned back rueful. "Bad luck all around." Mala drained her glass with four heavy gulps. Her face turned red from the effort of swallowing that much alcohol. She looked to Harry almost apologetically.

"I don't usually drink this much," she said. "But it's been a bloody awful week."

Harry nodded. "I know the feeling." He signaled for Ryan to fix her another. "It's on me," he said.

"You don't have to…"

"It's fine. Your bad luck is distracting me from my own. Least I can do is keep you drunk for a bit."

Mala Suerte smiled. "Well, thanks. It is good to talk to someone."

Ryan arrived with her drink. She tucked in to it.

"I'm losing my father's land. He died last year, in a lot of debt. I sold most everything we both owned to pay it off. The land here, just outside of the city, was the last bit. I was going to live there and work to pay off the rest of the debt over a period of time, but…"

Her chin was quivering. She took another drink to embolden herself.

"He didn't have a will that clearly labeled me as his heir. There's not another closer living relative, but… There was an error in my birth certificate. Some filing clerk typed it up wrong, so that my father's name is where the doctor's name ought to be, and vice versa. There is nothing that legally proves I'm his heir and the land belongs to me. So the bank I was working with to pay off his debts has taken possession of it. I had until this afternoon to buy it, or strike a deal of some sort, but they wouldn't budge."

"Bloody hell."

"You said it."

It was all wrong. Why did such horrible things have to happen to good people? Harry thought on that a minute, and had an idea.

"What's the land like? You said there's a house on it?"

"Yeah. It's a summer home, really. Spent every summer of my childhood there. Three bedroom bungalow, two bath, full kitchen. Ten acres surrounding it. It's beautiful. I should have known it wouldn't work out for me to be able to live there." Mala pouted drunkenly, took another drink.

"Would you… would you be willing to take a part time roommate? If you could keep the house?"

Mala slumped forward against the bar. "Oh, a roommate would be fine, but I can't afford to buy the place. I don't have anything left. I'm not likely to find someone who will buy it and then let me live there."

Harry turned to her, working it out slowly through the drunken fog of his brain. This could work. "What if I bought it, and then hired you to keep it up?"

Mala looked to him. "What are you talking about?"

"I have money. I don't have a place to live. I could buy your land."

"But…"

"I'm… er… gone a lot. With my job. I'm kind of a bounty hunter nowadays, and I get really out of touch. I lose track of time…" Harry paused for a moment, waiting for the pain to rip through him, but it didn't. Maybe if he deliberately misled people about what he meant, he could tell them these things. Just so long as he never tried to relate his disorientation to his disapp… fire sliced into him; he let the thought go.

"If I had a house where I could go when I came out of a job," he said carefully, "And if I had someone there who could tell me what month it was…" he smiled, "Fix me some tea maybe, and most importantly… someone who never asked me questions about myself or what I was doing or where I'd been… it would… it would be great."

I wouldn't be alone.

"You'd pay me to live in my house and tell you the date?" Mala's eyes were growing large with burgeoning hope.

"And let me live there," he said. "Watch my stuff while I'm gone, make sure the place doesn't go to weeds and boggarts. And then later on when you've saved up some money you can buy the place back from me."

It seemed a great idea to Harry, but then he realized he was offering this woman a chance to be a servant in her own home. It was a terrible idea. He was a terrible person.

But Mala Suerte Radinavich grinned broadly and flung her arms around Harry's neck. "I can't believe you'd do this for me!" she squealed. "I'll take good care of your things! I'll fix your meals when you're in town—I'm a great cook. Well, a decent one. Merlin's hat! I'll be roommates with Harry Potter! This is too good to be true!"

Harry felt a twinge of panic. He pushed the young woman back gently. "Mala, wait," he said, "There is one really important thing you need to agree to."

Her smile faltered. "Okay," she said carefully. "What?"

"I hope you don't think I'm a prick for this. Just trust me, there is a really good reason. We can't be friends. I mean, I won't treat you badly or act like you're my House Elf or anything, but… We can't have any personal conversations. And you must never ask me where I've been or what I've been doing."

Mala's face became very serious. She thought about this, and nodded. "You're Harry Potter," she said finally. "I'm sure you work on a lot of top secret things. I won't get in your way. I won't compromise what you're working on. And I promise I'll protect your privacy."

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He needed an acquaintance to keep him company, and one basically fell into his lap, along with a place to stay. This was it. This was his key to moving on, to accepting his lot in life. He would leave his old life behind, and figure out a way to live this new one that had been created around him. Maybe he couldn't be safe from what was happening to him, but he could learn how to live with it.

XIXIX

Two weeks later, Ginny stood just outside the gates of the Auror Training Camp with close to forty other recruits. Inside would begin a three-month boot camp designed to weed out the weak of heart—those who didn't have what it took to become an Auror. Those left would continue with another six months of on-the-job training, after which time they would receive their first real assignments, if one would be offered.

Ginny was determined to do this. No matter what it took, she was going to get in there and start making good on her life.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Ginny turned around and was surprised to find herself staring into a pair of crystal blue eyes.

"Hello, my Queen," he said.

"Draco! What are you doing here?"

The blonde smiled at her. "Same as you. I quit my job at the Mageria. I'm going to become an Auror."

"Did you not get the promotion?" Ginny was shocked. She didn't know what to think about this new development.

"I turned it down," he said.

"Oh."

Draco made a face. "Not happy to see me?"

"No, it's not that. I'm just surprised. I really did not expect to see you here."

He grinned. "That's because I decided to surprise you. Seriously, though. Are you not happy to see me here? Think a Malfoy could never make a good Auror?"

Ginny shrugged. "Depends on the Malfoy. You, for instance, will make a great one."

She cracked a smile at him. Draco flung one arm around her shoulder. "Well, let's get to it, then. Time to save the world again."

XIXIX

XIX

X


	22. The Past Behind You

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Past Behind You" XIXIX

Ginny poked her head around the doorframe and it exploded next to her face. She pulled back in time, but only barely. The residual magic singed her skin. It burned like hell. She hoped it wouldn't mark.

'Shit,' she swore to herself, 'They're using live curses. These wankers are playing for keeps.' She cut a look to Draco, who stood closer to the front window. She pointed upward with her eyes. Draco nodded, disillusioned himself. He'd already cast silencing charms on himself. He took hold of the shudders and leveraged himself up toward the roof.

Ginny counted to fifteen. After the curse, her first instinct was to find another entryway. But she knew the two wizards inside would be expecting that. It would be stupid to the point of suicidal to stick with the one entry point at which she'd been discovered. There were at least a half dozen other options. They'd be watching those others more closely now, expecting her to try another way.

Suicidal or no, she stayed where she was. '… twelve… thirteen… fourteen… fif—"

She heard the blast from the roof, heard part of the ceiling collapse inside. She lunged forward, tumbling round the corner and into the small house. The two wizards inside turned from their stations—watching two windows and not the front door—and looked up at the falling debris. They trained their wands on the new entryway that was forming above. Ginny trained her wand on the young man closer to her.

Behind the other, Draco dropped in—but not through the hole he'd just created in the roof. Instead, Draco came down the chimney. He emerged from the fireplace covered in soot, and completely unexpected.

"_Expelliarmus_!" they both shouted, disarming the enemy from behind.

The two wizards turned, and only after they saw Ginny and Draco were they hit with other magic. But, Ginny noted with proud righteousness, neither she nor her partner used damaging curses. The wizards fell to the floor, suitably bound, conscious, and unharmed.

"Are you okay?" said Draco immediately. "Let me see your face."

He leapt forward to inspect the damage, but Ginny shrugged him off. "I'm fine," she said, cutting a glare at the wizards on the floor. "The main blast missed me. We've got to find the captive."

Draco swept his eyes around the room. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he muttered. He walked over a trunk in the corner, kicked it open. He looked inside, and then at the wizards on the floor. "You kept her in a _trunk_?! Are you mad?"

"Mmm-nhm hm!" retorted one of them defiantly.

"Oh, shut up!" said Draco. "No one's interested in your excuses." He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the captive, gently pulling her up.

"My lady," he said to the witch, "May I have this dance?"

He snaked one hand around her waist, held up her arm with his other, and began swinging her around the room, her head flopping dangerously to one side.

"Da da da da dahhh…" he sang, spinning the dummy happily.

Ginny shook her head, and moved to the door. "We got her!" she yelled out. She didn't grin when she heard a few sporadic cheers from the group that waited outside, but she wanted to. She stood back as a huge wizard made his way forward from the midst of them.

"Good job, Red," he said gruffly. He had to hunch forward in order to make it through the door.

"You too, Malfoy." Malfoy had stopped dancing. He held out the dummy triumphantly, and nodded in respectful acknowledgment.

"Sergeant Grungle," he said in a business tone, "We neutralized the enemy in a non-lethal manner, despite their use of dangerous curses." Draco paused to glower at the wizards; Grungle gave them a disapproving look as well.

Ginny continued the report. "We were able to rescue the hostage… from a trunk… with no damage to person, and a minimum of damage to property."

Grungle nodded, inspected the scene. He did not release the prisoners, nor request that Ginny or Draco do so. Momentarily, he pointed to the partially collapsed ceiling.

"Minimum damage to property?" he shot, his eyes bulging slightly. Draco and Ginny now stood side-by-side, and pulled themselves to attention. It was clear to both of them they were in for a reaming.

"There are seven open entrances to this building! _Why in the name of Thor_ did you create another one?!"

"It was a distraction, sir," said Ginny, her chin held high. "It allowed Draco and myself to enter unnoticed through other points, and neutralize the enemy without a fight."

Grungle leaned down into Ginny's face. "Are you afraid of a fight, Weasley?!"

"No, sir!" she snapped. "But the fewer spells cast, the less risk of hurting the hostage in the crossfire!"

Grungle stood back and nodded. He turned on Draco. "Are you stupid, Malfoy?!" he demanded.

Draco shook his head, "Not very, sir!"

"_Is this a game to you_?!" he roared.

"No, sir!"

"Why did you blow a hole in the roof?! Was your puny, over-privileged brain incapable of figuring out another distraction?"

Draco opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut again.

Sergeant Grungle seethed at him, yelling into his face. "Your mission was to rescue a citizen from Death Eater captors! Not to destroy her house!" Draco stood there and took it, his mouth pressed shut unhappily.

"What could you have done differently?" growled Grungle.

Draco paused, then said slowly, "I could have blown open one of the side windows, then slipped in another way while their attention was on the explosion. It would have been just as effective a distraction, but caused less structural damage."

Grungle stood straight, turned his wand on the wizards on the floor. Their binds disappeared, and they flew to attention, standing next to Draco and Ginny.

"Smarte, Bryde!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Your mission was to protect a citizen from attacking Death Eaters."

"Yes, sir!"

"You failed in that mission. Furthermore, you placed your citizen in a trunk in her own house! On what _planet_ does that seem a good idea?!"

Draco smirked, but Ginny winced. Her face was really starting to kill her. Grungle noticed and reached out a hand to grab her shoulder. Before she could react, he had pulled her over, in front of Smarte and Bryde. He put his hand on the top of her head, cocking it to one side so that the damaged area was facing the two wizards.

"Who was it that cast the curse that nearly took off Weasley's head?" he snarled.

They both looked down. Bryde raised his hand. "I did, sir."

"It is your first week in training. You are not cleared to use such curses at this time. You have been told this."

"But if she'd been a real Death Eater…" Bryde began.

"If she'd been a real Death Eater, she'd have killed you when you got caught!" he hollered. "This is your comrade at arms. You may be serving with Weasley in the field one day. There will be plenty of time for you to train in the use of violent and lethal curses. But right now, you need to learn better judgment. An Auror who flies to the extremes is no good to the Wizarding World."

He shoved Ginny away. "Weasley, get to the medic. Some of your skin is melting."

XIXIX

That evening, Ginny dropped her tray on the table next to Draco's. He looked up at her and made a face. Her own face was half-covered with a gooey salve.

"Is it going to scar?" he said.

"A little," she answered. "It shouldn't be too noticeable, though."

"I'm gonna kill Bryde." Ginny cut him a reproachful look, but before she could respond, a voice came from behind them.

"Is that a fact?"

They both looked up at the two wizards standing behind them—Smarte and Bryde.

"Yeah, it is," said Draco, suddenly on his feet. Bryde dropped his tray, pulled his wand against the blonde.

Ginny jumped between them. "Enough!" she shouted. "Draco, sit down. I can fight for myself." She pushed Draco back. Smarte had Bryde by the shoulders, trying to pull him away too.

"You tell your little boy toy to watch himself!" said Bryde as Smarte dragged him away.

Ginny threw him a rude gesture. "Sod off!"

"We're watching you, Weasley!"

"I'm shaking."

When they were gone, she slammed her fist into the table. "Pricks." She tore into her meal angrily. "Sons of bitches."

XIXIX

When they got back to the barracks, owl post was already waiting for them on their bunks. Ginny climbed into her bed, on the bottom bunk. Draco hoisted himself into the bed above her. All of the witches and wizards in the Auror training camp stayed in this one room—all of the trainees, at least. The bathrooms were gender segregated, but everything else the trainees did, they did as one.

Ginny and Draco stayed together as much as they could. Draco did get a lot of flack for being a Malfoy—with one Death Eater parent dead in the war, the other Death Eater parent rotting in Azkaban. Most everyone was openly hostile toward him. Ginny felt sure that that would fade with time—people would trust him once they got to know him, once they saw him in action—but she didn't say this to him. She knew he wouldn't believe it anyway.

Trust in, and distrust of, Ginny fell to the extremes in her cohort. Some lauded her as Harry Potter's twin; others kept in mind that she was arrested on Death Eater suspicion charges just last year. Ginny and Draco were both outsiders here. They teamed up when they could. They watched each other's backs. They worked doubly hard, both determined to be the best.

Ginny read through the letter that was awaiting her. When she got to the end, she laughed to herself. That boy.

Draco poked his head over the side of the bed. "What are you laughing at?" he asked.

Ginny grinned. "Lokstavian. He still wants me to run away and marry him."

Draco made a face. His head disappeared. A moment later, he jumped down, letter in hand, and sat down on the bed next to her.

"You're not going to, are you?"

"He's still in school!"

"Does that mean no?"

"That means definitely not now."

Draco sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said.

"It's not nothing… what?"

Draco shook his head. "I just… wish I had never introduced the two of you."

Ginny dropped her jaw. "I thought you were friends."

"Business partners, more like. Anyway, he's a troublemaker and you know it. And a fake. He makes himself into who you want him to be, and believe me, he can be anybody."

Ginny shot him a look. "You're sure you're not confusing him with Kyle? Seems to me he's the one who got you into trouble with Harry."

Draco looked away. It was a low blow. But he could fight dirty too. "Yeah, well, Loky's not going to replace Harry for you any better than Kyle did for me."

"That's not…" Ginny gulped. Draco gave her a calculating look.

"Sure it is. You're trying to replace Harry with the next best thing. But he'll never stick around for you."

"He stood up to his father for me," Ginny snapped defiantly.

Draco shrugged. "It didn't last, though. Once he was out of Hogwarts… did he ever even send you an owl?"

Ginny glared at him. "What's got you in a mood?" She noticed his hand tighten around the letter. "Come on, Malfoy, spill."

He frowned at her, held out the letter. Ginny took it, still glaring. But she dropped her hostility as she read through it.

"Bloody hell," she said. "Are you going?"

Draco shrugged. "It's the third letter she's written me," he said. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"

Ginny eyed him levelly. "It's your mom," she said finally. "If she really wants to see you, then I guess you ought to give her a chance."

"Yeah," said Draco, unconvinced. "I guess I ought."

XIXIX

His rage was taking over, clouding his vision, consuming all of his thoughts. Ron let it. All he needed was a chance. Just one chance and he would kill the fucker. And then it happened. He dropped to the ground and dove forward, his fists colliding with the wizard before him. He screamed obscenities as he beat the ever-living shit out of him, unopposed. He wanted to tear his flesh off. He wanted to make him suffer.

"You're not a Weasley anymore," he ground out, dropping the broken man at his feet. Percy looked up at him, but he was no longer Ron's brother. Ron didn't think twice as he pulled out his wand, opened his mouth…

"Ron!"

Hermione's voice echoed through him, sending a nauseating shiver to his very core. He stared at Percy, but he wouldn't stop. After what he had done… The curse passed through his lips and Percy writhed and then fell still, but Ron hardly noticed because still Hermione's voice pulsed through him, her call coursing through his veins, maddening him.

Ron flew out of bed, covered in sweat. He came to, standing across the room, panting, shuddering, staring at his still sleeping wife. He could still hear her voice; he couldn't shut it out. In his mind's eye, he could see Percy staring up at him the moment Ron cursed him. In his mind's eye, he saw Bill with the rope around his neck. In his mind's eye he saw his mother, grieving the loss of her second son in a year. But what he heard was Hermione's voice as she called to him that day on the battlefield.

"Goddamnit, Hermione," he muttered to himself. "Why did you have to be there?"

XIXIX

Ron was at work early that morning. He had learned that after nightmares like that, it was best to get out. He would be irritable, and far too likely to pick a fight with his wife.

When he got in, he was surprised to see Angela was there as well. She didn't come into the lab at the Department of Mysteries that often. She did consult with the Unspeakables from time to time, but her main body of work was on one of Dr. Monroe's research teams… somewhere else. Ron suspected they were based in the UK somewhere, but he wasn't sure about that. He wasn't sure what they researched, either.

It had to be something similar to his work, because they often found themselves in the same crew when they worked on location. Just before Ron had left for his honeymoon, they'd worked together capturing mummies in the Egyptian tombs. While Ron was trying to define the magical link they had that connected this world to the afterlife, Angela had worked on the power connection between the mummies and the tombs themselves.

Specifically, she had said, she wanted to discover if there was a way to break the control magic that the tombs held over the mummies. Furthermore, she needed to know what more could be done to prevent the mummies from ever freeing themselves.

Ron was a little confused about the practical applications of such knowledge, but, he reasoned, not all research needed a practical application. If Angela wanted to study ways to ensure mummies were bound to their tombs eternally, so be it.

He sat down at his desk in the main office. All of the Unspeakables had a place in this quiet room where they could sit and review research and notes, or write articles and file reports, in mostly undisturbed silence. Experiments were conducted in other rooms, where noises or explosions could not disturb others. Ron would be doing nothing today but reading through previous research done in his field of study.

All day.

Hermione would love it, were he able to tell her anything about his job.

He pulled a small black book off of a stack that perched on the corner of his desk. Ron had quickly learned to loathe that book. Once opened, it ceased to be the puny, unassuming guide to magical creatures that its cover claimed. It was in fact written by a Dark wizard close to two hundred years ago, and was meant to be the definitive work on Dark creatures. Beelzen Bullubub had spent a fortune and a lifetime conducting all manner of absolutely horrific experiments on the creatures he studied. Not only did he perform unspeakable acts on these living, non-living, and semi-living beasts and beings, he also forced the creatures themselves to perform unspeakable acts on humans, mostly muggles.

The main problem Ron had with the book was that it simply would not end. Once opened, the thin book's pages seemed to turn eternally. It was bad enough that he needed to read through such sick, albeit historical, tomes so that he would be fully versed for his modern research. But that he was already on page 7,483 and there was still no end in sight, well. He shuddered to think what more he had to learn on the history of Dark creature experimentation.

Ron glanced over to where Dr. Monroe and Angela were talking. They were standing inside one of the silencing fields that punctuated this area, so he couldn't hear their words, but he could tell they were arguing about something. Angela was waving her hands around. She turned to Ron, met his eye briefly, and then turned back to Monroe, pointing at Ron as though using him as a prime example of her point. Monroe turned to Ron as well, but shook his head, arguing back. Angela threw up both hands and stalked off, still talking.

As she left the silencing field, she was saying, "…his best friends, even. Why would he talk to a hired servant?!"

Monroe followed her, arguing, "We can't take any chances. I want this situation monitored, Angela. I don't want a repeat of last time."

Angela scoffed. "Last time?! Your boss was jumping for joy over _last time_. I doubt he'll care about…"

"That's enough!" snapped Monroe. "You have your orders."

He stormed off toward his lab, a room that used Unplottable magical technology, so that it was also connected to the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on the fourth floor. The research Monroe conducted at the Ministry spanned both departments. Angela made to follow him, but stopped. She balled her fists, turned on her heel, and stomped off into another lab, slamming the door behind her. Two minutes later, she emerged again. This time, she walked directly to Ron.

Ron looked up, thankful for an excuse to close that damned book.

"Ron, let me ask you a question," she said, leaning against the side of his desk.

"Shoot."

Angela took a deep breath. "How much do you know about what happened with the Dementor in the final battle?"

Ron suppressed a shudder, but it wasn't to do with the Dementors. He saw Percy looking up at him, heard Hermione's voice…

"You mean with Harry?"

Angela nodded.

"I told you before. He doesn't talk about it."

"Not with anyone?" she pressed. "You haven't heard anything… from another friend, maybe?"

Ron sat back in his seat and thought back. "I know he possessed one," he said finally, "But blimey if I understand how. Ginny let something slip once about snake magic, but… she wouldn't say anything more about it. It was a secret she was keeping for him. Like I said, he doesn't talk about it."

"Ah," said Angela, biting her lip while she thought.

"Why do you ask?"

She shook her head and smiled with a false brightness. "No reason," she said. "Just…" she paused, clearly searching for an excuse to give him. Ron already didn't believe her when she said, "It's just fascinating, is all. I wish I could learn more about what happened that day."

"Insight into binding magic?" he asked. He referenced her research sarcastically, but Angela's smile faltered. Ron frowned.

Monroe's laboratory door opened and he stepped through. They both turned to him, and Angela looked guilty.

"Diamond! What are you doing?" he barked.

Angela stood suddenly. "I…"

"Get in here!" Angela jumped to comply.

XIXIX

Ron was unsettled as he played the conversation over and over in his brain. Angela's curiosity wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Everyone was curious about Harry. But the specific aspect of Harry that she was curious about… it made Ron nervous, all the moreso because it had never occurred to him to be overly curious about it himself.

Because it was pretty bloody interesting that Harry had discovered a way to possess a Dementor. At the time, Ron had chalked it up to Harry's ability to do unbelievable things, but… this really did extend beyond unbelievable. It was impossible.

That Harry had never wanted to talk about it to his friends had not bothered Ron. It must have been an awful experience. Who _would_ want to talk about it? But now Ron was wondering if there wasn't some other reason Harry had kept mum. If there wasn't something more to the story.

But, of course, there _had_ to be something more to the story. Humans could not possess non-humans. It was well-documented fact. Wizards could not perform mental magic on magical creatures. Many creatures could perform mental magic on wizards, on other creatures, but it didn't go both ways. So how in the bloody hell _had Harry managed to do this?_

Ron thought about Ginny's onetime slip about snake magic. He thought about Harry being a Parselmouth. He thought about Harry's dream in fifth year when the snake attacked his father at the Ministry. Plus he had possessed a Dementor.

Ron turned back to his book, flipping through the multitude of chapters regarding snakes and serpents, marking interesting passages. He thought about binding magic, about magic that could control magical creatures. And then, Ron thought about the Tremor Moles.

He left work early and went directly to the Burrow. His dad was still at work, but his mum was happy to see him. They went into the garage, where his dad kept trinkets and oddments, muggle items and experiments. They poked around for awhile, sorting through piles and cabinets and drawers.

"Are you sure he kept it?"

Molly Weasley cut him a look. "Ronald, this is your father we're talking about. Have you ever known him to throw away _anything_?"

Ron chuckled to himself and kept looking for his dad's stash of Tremor Mole research and paraphernalia. They had spent the first month of the summer after his sixth year trying to figure out a humane way to remove them from underneath the house. Ron's dad seemed to bring home more information on the creatures every day… books, articles, pamphlets, lawn treatments that supposedly prevented their coming to begin with. Ron had glanced over some of it, but mostly he was working on how to move the house without it falling down around them.

Molly leaned halfway into a trunk and yelled out from its depths, "Why the sudden interest in the Tremor Moles? It was so long ago…"

Ron stood on a chair so he could see onto the top shelf of an overflowing bookcase. "Something at work reminded me of it. Are you sure he didn't keep it inside?"

When his mum didn't answer, he looked over his shoulder. She was standing upright now, trembling as she rubbed at something in her hand. Her freckled skin had turned a pale white.

"Mum? What is it?"

Ron jumped down and crossed to his mother in an instant. He put his hand on her arm, looked down over her shoulder at the object she held. It was Percy's Prefect badge, still polished to perfection, and shining underneath a protective charm.

"He did love this thing," said Molly, almost fondly.

Ron felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He choked a bit, trying to think of something to say, but he remembered the look on Percy's face when he cast the strangulation curse on him, he remembered Hermione calling to him, and he felt rather strangled himself. Molly looked up at him, and… nodded, seeming to understand.

"I miss Percy a lot, Ron. I grieve his loss. But we would have grieved your brother even if he had lived. We lost Percy when he became a Death Eater. The man you killed was not your brother. He was your sister's kidnapper and torturer. Your brother was already gone."

Ron was shaking. His face was wet, and he realized he was crying. Molly took him in her arms and Ron buried his face in her shoulder.

"I love you so much, my son," she said.

XIXIX

"Where have you been?" Hermione looked up from her seat in front of the fire. Remus was sitting across from her, sharing a pot of tea.

Classes would be starting tomorrow, so they probably shouldn't be up this late, but Hermione had been worried. Remus had happily obliged when she asked him to sit with her. She just had a terrible feeling. Had had it all day, since she woke up to find Ron already left for work.

It was silly, she told herself now. It had been meaningless anxiety, and not Sight, that she had spent the day fearing she would never see her husband again.

"Sorry, 'Mione," he said. "I should have firecalled. I stopped by the Burrow on the way home from work to pick something up. It was only supposed to be for a few minutes, but…" Ron looked over to Remus and Hermione could see he was gauging whether he should speak in front of him. He did. "I got to talking with my mum about Percy. I really couldn't just leave after that."

Hermione nodded seriously. She got up and went to him, pecking him on the mouth while he set down his briefcase, hung up his robe. Finally, Ron looked around. "So, what's new? How was the faculty orientation?"

Hermione shot Remus a look, and was heartened when he smiled back encouragingly. She wished she had his confidence in the good outcome of this conversation.

"Well," she said, "We've uhm… we've got a new flying instructor."

"Oh yeah?" said Ron, but she could tell he was barely paying attention as he poured himself a cup of tea.

"Yeah. Victor."

Ron looked over. "Victor what?"

"Victor's the new flying instructor."

Ron froze, and Hermione felt herself tense. "He what?"

"He's been hired on this term."

Ron's face turned red. Hermione shot a look to Remus. She knew this was going to happen. Remus gave her an 'I was wrong; you were right' look and cut in before Ron's anger escalated further.

"It won't be so bad," he said. "Victor is not likely to try anything."

Ron shook his head furiously. Hermione wanted to just melt away. "You don't know this guy, Remus," he said. "You don't know the history…"

"Sure, I do," said Remus firmly. "But it was years ago. People move on after so much time."

Ron pressed his lips together. He clearly didn't believe there would be no problem, but he kept his mouth shut. Hermione was thankful for that, at least. She gave Remus a small smile as she walked him to the door.

XIXIX

The next morning, while they got dressed, she asked, "What were you at the Burrow for, anyway?"

Ron was going through his briefcase. He looked up, a little embarrassed she thought. "I was trying to find Dad's stuff from when we had the Tremor Moles."

"Oh, what for?" Hermione pulled out a business robe. She didn't like looking flighty while teaching Divination. People were far too willing to believe it was all a load of bullocks. They paid more attention when she looked good and professional.

"Well…" There was silence for some time. Hermione looked over.

Ron's brows were furrowed. "Do you remember what happened at Harry's birthday party after sixth year?"

"Merlin, how could I forget?" said Hermione. "They had to carry him to the floo to get him out of there."

"Exactly," said Ron as though that explained everything. "Ginny said it was because all those snakes were surrounding the house."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, a thousand Parseltongue voices that only Harry could hear."

"But that doesn't seem right, does it? I mean, Harry wasn't acting like it was too loud, or he was trying to listen to too many voices at once… he was… I dunno, having some sort of fit."

Hermione thought back. "You're right. He was trying to scratch his way through the floor." She looked up to Ron with a suspicious glint in her eye. "Do you think Ginny and Snape were hiding something from us about what really happened?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? But something doesn't quite add up."

"What got you thinking about that?"

And Ron closed down. Hermione knew that face well. He wasn't allowed to talk about his work with anyone, not even her. And Ron took his job very seriously. Whatever had gotten him thinking about Harry and the Tremor Moles was off limits in home conversation.

"Nevermind," she said. "I'll see you tonight."

They kissed each other goodbye. Ron stepped into the floo and was on his way to London. Hermione finished tidying herself up, and headed down to breakfast.

She noticed right away that Victor was sitting to the right of her own seat. He smiled at her broadly when she sat down. "Professor Weasley," he said formally, nodding his head.

"Professor Krum," she responded.

And then they laughed. It wasn't funny, really, but it did seem absurd that they should be here, in this position, after everything they'd been through together. Honestly, Hermione thought. This wasn't going to be so bad.

Except it was.

At breakfast, several students snapped photos of the two together, and then the whispers began in earnest.

Hermione and Victor were both famous, and after the war there had apparently been a lot of conjecture about the possibility of a romantic reunion between them. It had stopped for the most part after her engagement to Ron. But even on that first day of classes, the rumors sprung again. Hermione confiscated four separate _years-old_ articles about the Granger-Krum love connection. Notes were being handed back and forth about whether they were having an affair!

Hermione was outraged. These were _students_ who were spreading rumors about their _teachers_! At lunchtime he said not to worry about it, but she could tell many of the children were watching them, looking for any little movement that might feed their gossip. Before dinner, she pleaded with Professor Toadings to trade seats with her so that she could sit next to Remus instead.

"What am I going to tell Ron about all of this?" she fretted.

"Ron's a grown man, Hermione. I'm sure he'll understand."

She knew it wasn't true, but it made her feel better anyway. She steeled herself for the conversation she knew they'd be having when he got home from work. But they never had it. Because Ron never came home from work.

XIXIX

XIX

X


	23. Into the Fire

X

XIX

XIXIX "Into the Fire" XIXIX

Remus took another drink. This was not working. Of course he had been pleased when Hermione and Ron came to Durmstrang last year. Why wouldn't he have been? He'd always been fond of them. He'd watched them grow from children to…

He thought of Hermione and took another drink. She'd always been a clever one, and though it had been easy enough to ignore it at the time, she'd been a pretty little witch even at thirteen. Remus, not being inclined toward pedophilia, had managed to keep a good, healthy mental and emotional distance even after that terrible night when he'd nearly killed them all and let Wormtail escape in the process. Even after she had called to him.

She was still a kid at the time—a very old thirteen, but thirteen nonetheless. He wouldn't let himself think of it. But that changed after the war. Whatever youth or childhood innocence that may have remained in her fled completely after the final battle. Anyone paying attention could have seen it, in all of the children who had fought out there. But those four who had been abducted, tortured by kin, who had battled against Voldemort's inner circle—they had been changed forever. And Remus had found himself quite unable to ignore the bushy-haired young woman any longer.

_She's young enough to be your daughter,_ he told himself. But it wasn't enough. _She's Harry's best friend; he'd never forgive you_. But it wasn't enough. _She's a married woman._ Ah, there it was. Tentative though it was, Remus clung to this invisible wall that erected itself around him, separating himself from… his coworker. That was all she was to him.

He took another drink.

Because Hermione had come to him last night, half wild from a vision—some little piece of Sight—that Ron would be gone forever. And he was late getting home, she said, and it had happened before, she said, but for some reason this time she found herself terrified that she would never see her husband again. And Remus had gone to their quarters and made her tea and kept her calm with bland reassurances and ignored the fact that his heart and his stomach had replaced each other in the geography of his body.

And then Ron came home, and it wasn't too late when Remus got back to his own quarters, but he didn't sleep at all. She was smiling in the morning, laughing with her ex with a friendliness that made Remus want to growl possessively. But he smiled, and nodded, and tried not to be too happy when she came to sit with him at dinner. He tried not to be pleased that that was twice in as many days that she came to him when she found herself in need of some reassurance. He tried.

And so it was that Remus sat alone in his quarters, drinking steadily and reminding himself of the sanctity of matrimonial vows. He stood up and went to the window, running his fingers over the stone and almost wishing that he could see out into the night, that he could look off into some far distance and gain some perspective on the situation. Almost wishing.

His windows sealed with stone every evening at dusk. It was a special design the Charms professor had created just for him. Even when the moon wasn't full, Remus shied away from it. Professor Toadings had a sister who had been bitten. They were very close and Spauna spent years trying to make her sister's life as pleasant as possible, right up until she was shot and killed by some Muggle she attacked. Almost fifty year later, Spauna Toadings was still heavily involved in Werewolf rights.

She had a soft spot where Remus was concerned. When he had mentioned once in passing that Professor Wyrmwuld's Wolfsbane potion wasn't as smooth as Snape's, Spauna had taken over making it. And while still not as good as Snape's, it was a vast improvement. She fawned over him during the week surround his transformation. And she was always somewhere between grinning knowingly and clucking disapprovingly when it came to Hermione Weasley.

There was a quiet knock at the door, the sort of knock that doesn't want to wake the inhabitant. But Remus wasn't sleeping. He glanced to the clock. It had long since moved past "Go To Bed" and on to "Ridiculously Late."

He opened the door to see Hermione. She looked completely frazzled. Her eyes were red and puffy; her hair was bushier than ever. She was wringing her hands together continuously.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's after two, I'm so sorry to wake you like this."

"I wasn't sleeping," he said, stepping aside so she could enter. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She turned back to him with a look that was half-mad with worry. "Remus, I think… I think I was a day off. He hasn't come home yet and I tried the Burrow already and he's not there either and now Molly is worried too and Arthur went to the Department of Mysteries but no one answered and maybe he's out on special assignment somewhere but he usually firecalls if he's going to be out overnight and that Sight I had yesterday that he would be gone forever, what if I was a day off? Because he came home last night and so I thought I was wrong and it was just worry and not a vision but what if it was for today and last night I had a chance to say goodbye to him and I didn't and now I'll never see him again?"

Her voice had grown more shrill as she continued, barely stopping to take a breath. Having reached the crescendo, she collapsed suddenly. Remus caught her on the way to the floor. He took her to the couch in his sitting area and summoned some tea.

She accepted a cup gratefully, but Remus didn't know what more he could do. They had discussed all possible actions the previous night. Firecalls were not accepted within the Department of Mysteries, so she couldn't call to find out if he was there. Same with owls. And Ron was an Unspeakable, so she wouldn't be able to file a missing persons report on him with the Aurors, no matter how long he was gone. There really was nothing to do but wait.

Remus hit himself with a Sobrietus Charm, and poured himself some tea. This was going to be a long night.

XIXIX

On Friday, Severus sat in his potions lab pinching the bridge of his nose. He had only just gotten around to reading the letter Lupin had sent him by owl post this morning, and he found himself wishing he'd put if off a little longer. Ron Weasley had not come home since Monday. Hermione was mad with worry. Did Severus know how to contact Harry?

Severus sighed deeply. Far be it from him to understand the mental workings of the Werewolf, but he for one had no idea why Lupin would have involved him in this latest drama. Severus certainly would have preferred knowing nothing about it. They could have gotten the same information, probably more information, from Ginny than from himself. And she would certainly care to be involved in finding her missing brother.

Unless they weren't telling her. She was in training right now. Maybe they didn't want to worry her unless they knew some concrete reason to do so. Severus sneered into the empty lab. Brainless sentimentalities. If something was wrong with Ronald Weasley she had a right to know.

As did Harry. Who, unfortunately, was unreachable at the present time. Harry had closed off their bond in that eerily absolute way days ago. Actually, Severus thought back, he closed it off the same day Ron Weasley had apparently gone MIA. Even if Lupin had contacted him immediately, Severus wouldn't have been able to ask Harry to go to his Seer friend.

Severus didn't want to be a part of this. He had quite enough to worry about now that school had started back again with the conspicuous lack of Albus Dumbledore. And then Headmistress McGonagall had come to him.

'Albus wanted it this way,' she had said. 'He told me years ago.'

And so, though it was anything but what Severus would have wanted for himself, he had become the new Deputy Headmaster, with all the responsibilities that came with the position. McGonagall keyed him into the wards, so that either of them could control them. He took control of the schedule of events at Hogwarts throughout the year, including Hogsmeade visits, Quidditch matches, and exams. And he became the official mediator of all faculty disputes, although Merlin knew he would be no good at that.

Add to that that he was still grieving the loss of his mentor, not to mention that he was still smarting over Harry's recent insistence that they break their bond, and Severus was quite sure that he didn't need to be involved in the possibility that yet another Weasley son had died. It was too much to ask of anyone, let alone someone who had spent a vast majority of his life not giving a damn.

But still, he supposed he ought to try. Harry had apparently settled down in a house outside of Prague. It was unlikely that he would be there, just sitting in his house with his bond sealed up tight like he didn't even exist… but with Harry, you just never know.

He went to the fireplace in his office and threw in some powder for a firecall. Severus hated making firecalls. They went against every self-protective instinct he had, leaving his body in the UK while his head swept off to the Czech Republic. But Harry would want to know as soon as possible that his friend was missing. Because despite his repeated assurances to the contrary over the past few years, Harry did give a damn.

After a nauseating pull, Severus found himself staring into a living room, sparsely decorated in earth tones. It did seem a very comfortable place. He could see why Harry had chosen it.

"I'm coming," yelled a voice from the other room, and Severus fought against an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his belly.

It was a woman's voice.

In Harry's house.

Severus sneered when she came into view, and the pretty young woman's smile faltered. "Oh," she said uncertainly, looking over her shoulder as though for a means to escape. "Can I help you?"

Severus gave her a look like he rather doubted it. "I'm looking for Harry Potter," he said.

Her shoulders sagged, as though relieved he hadn't been looking for her. "He's not here right now," she said. "Do you want me to take a message?"

"When will he be back?"

She smiled, but not with friendliness. "I can't say," she said.

"Are you expecting him back today?" he asked.

"I can't say," she repeated. Still that smile. She was stonewalling.

"Do you know where he is?"

The smile was bland, but steadfast. She wouldn't reveal anything to him. But perhaps she would _be able to say_ something if she knew he was Harry's bondmate.

"Tell him that Severus Snape would like to talk to him. Immediately."

She pulled out parchment and a quill and jotted down a note. She looked up at him expectantly. When he didn't continue, she prompted. "And… does he have your contact information?"

Severus was floored, but he didn't let it show. Harry was living with some woman, and she didn't even recognize the name of his bondmate. Maybe he _was_ trying to leave them all behind. Maybe he was trying to start over, with a clean break from his past. The thought made Severus' chest hurt. But he wouldn't show any of this to the woman that sat before him.

"He does," he said instead. He pulled himself back into his office, and nearly had a heart attack when someone touched his arm.

Severus flew to standing, wand out in an instant, and was ready to cast anything up to and including Unforgivables against the person who had snuck up on him while he was in the precarious position of the firecall. Somewhere along the way, recognition dawned.

"For the love of god, Perenelle!" he thundered. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"Don't be silly," she said lightly, stepping forward to hug the flabbergasted Potions Master. As shocked as he was, he made no move to accept or decline the hug while it was given. Perenelle Flamel wrapped her arms around the stiff body and squeezed tight. "Oh, it's so good to see you," she said.

"Forgive me if I don't say the same," he sneered.

"That's okay," she smiled. "I know you mean it."

Nicolas Flamel stepped forward from the door, his hand outstretched. "Sorry, Severus," he said kindly. "I tried to tell her we should come back later, but the woman just won't listen."

"Why would I listen to foolish advice like that?" she grinned. "It's not often one gets a chance to sneak up on the ever-vigilant Severus Snape."

"And it's not often that my wife tries to pull daredevil stunts like that." He gave her an overly serious look. "My love, you could have been killed just now."

Severus watched them tease back and forth and felt himself relaxing. He recognized straight away the use of their 'sweeter emotions' to lighten his mood. As always, he fought against it. As always, he lost. He rolled his eyes, felt a smile glance against the corners of his mouth.

"Well, it is good to see you," he said, and meant it. "Have a seat. Would you care for some tea?"

"No thank you," said Perenelle, but she did take the seat, lowering herself stiffly into it. Severus was horrified to realize how very old they looked.

After hundreds of years of drinking the Elixir of Life from the Sorcerer's Stone, they had looked and acted younger than himself when he first met them a few years back. After the Stone had been destroyed, they would have aged progressively, growing older and then elderly before their eventual death. But on the battlefield at the end of the war, they had used their healing magic, had given their lifeforce, in order to save many of the wounded. Severus himself had been so near death when they found him. He imagined they must have spent decades of their own life in order to bring him back. Although Merlin knew why they would have bothered.

"I thought you had already returned to the Americas," he said.

Perenelle waved at him impatiently. "Not without visiting with you first. We had some business to attend to in London, but of course we would stop through to see you."

"We wanted to see Harry, too," added Nicolas. "We didn't find him at the funeral. I don't suppose you would know how to contact him?"

Severus snorted. No, not he. Maybe that woman in his house, but not his bondmate.

"What is it?" asked Perenelle tentatively.

Severus shook his head. "You're the second person to ask me that today. And no, I don't have an answer for you. Harry has gone off into the world, intent, I suppose, on leaving the rest of us behind."

"But you're bonded, aren't you?" asked Nicolas quickly. Perenelle nudged him sharply. Severus chose not to answer. They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, before Perenelle broke it.

"Remember when we first started training him?" she reminisced fondly. "Ah, that boy was infuriating sometimes. He was always off getting himself into trouble. He was an emotional kid too, what with everything he'd already been through in his life. And his powers were so erratic while he was trying to get them under control."

Severus snorted again. He remembered it all too well. Why was it again that he had ever allowed himself to get so close to the boy?

Perenelle continued. "But still he persisted. He practiced endlessly, and he trained others through the DA. And he grew so strong so fast." She laughed suddenly. "Nicolas, you remember when he broke through your Brain Barrier? I think it scared him more than it did you."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Nicolas. "It scared me something awful. Our Brain Barriers are as powerful as we are. No one had ever succeeded in getting through them and into our thoughts before. I couldn't believe how strong he had become. He was just a kid."

Perenelle shook her head. "I knew he was going to have a tough life. No one can have that much power, and such a dreadful responsibility as ridding the world of a truly great evil, and come out unscathed. The path he was fated to walk is a hard one. Nicolas and I were only happy to realize that he had found someone to journey with him, as both a mentor and an equal."

She set Severus with a dead even look. That he was the one she hoped would always stay at Harry's side was not lost on him. There was a time he himself had hoped as much. But his bondmate simply did not love Severus the way he loved Harry. His distance had made that clear. And in turn, Severus must use that distance to try an accept Harry's choice.

He cleared his throat of the lump that was forming there.

"It's a nice thought," he said, as though he actually couldn't think of anything worse. "But Harry left. And he has made his choice to stay away. I must respect that." He meant for this to be the definitive statement, the end of the discussion. But when Perenelle laughed, he realized he ought to have known better.

"Oh, Severus," she grinned slyly, "Sometimes people say 'Leave me alone' because they want to be followed. Sometimes they jump into the fire so that someone can save them."

Severus snorted. He knew the truth.

"And sometimes not," he said scathingly.

Perenelle shrugged and spread out her hands as though conceding to him. But then she cocked her head to the side and gave him a look, and Severus found himself wondering if he was right after all.

XIXIX

Draco had gotten leave for Sunday morning, and so he left. Ginny had offered to come along, and he had wanted her to, but somehow Draco figured this meeting would go a lot smoother if it was just himself and his mother. He stepped outside of the training compound and raised his wand. Almost immediately, the Knight Bus flew into existence in front of him.

"Allo!" said Stan happily. "N' where would ye like t'be off to t'day?"

"Azkaban," said Draco steadily. Stan winced.

"Wha choo want t'be goin' there for?" he asked suspiciously. "Seems mos' wizards want t'stay away from it."

Draco glowered and gave no reason. He held Stan's eye until he turned away. "Azkaban, 'tis then," he muttered, and left Draco alone with his thoughts. His thoughts were poor company.

He should have brought Ginny. She would have kept him talking. She would have continually reminded him that this was, in fact, _not_ a bad idea. But as it was, Draco was alone, and the closer they got the more he was convinced that his mother had some nefarious reason for summoning him to the wizarding prison. Not that it would work. Draco would be damned before he would follow in his parents' footsteps. Whatever she was planning, he would not be a party to it.

Eventually, the sickening sway of the bus came to a sudden and dangerous halt, slamming the squashy chairs forward alarmingly. Draco took a deep breath and climbed out of the accursed automobile. The Knight Bus disappeared almost instantly, entirely unwilling to stay in the location for too long.

It was utterly dismal. Draco stood on a murky shore, staring across a great expanse of water at a lone island housing a lone citadel. It looked awful. Draco thought he might be sick. But before he had a chance, a wizard with a clipboard approached him, appearing out of nowhere.

"Can I help you?" he asked rudely. It was a threat more than an offer of service.

"I'm here to visit my mother," he said, motioning to the island.

"Name."

"I'm Draco Malfoy, here to see Narcissa Malfoy."

"Wand please." He held out his hand. Draco looked at it.

"Do you have some ID?" he said. He wasn't about to hand over his wand to some strange wizard off the shore of Azkaban.

The wizard huffed and waved him over. As they approached the shoreline, a small building seemed to appear out of nowhere. Off to the side of it was a dock. A small boat was tethered to it. The building, the dock, and the boat were all labeled "_Azkaban Transportation Authority_."

Draco followed the wizard inside. Once in, he thrust a badge into Draco's face, pointed to a certification placard on the wall, and then handed him another clipboard.

"You're going to have to sign in, and state your purpose for visit. You may not bring your wand beyond this point. All other magical items must be left here as well. Be careful to leave_ All. Other. Magical. Items._ _Here_. The wards around the island will cause them to explode. It can be quite painful, and indeed, lethal."

Draco nodded, as though this were nothing out of the ordinary. He didn't much care for this man's aim on intimidating him. It was bad enough having to visit your mum in Azkaban without wankers like him making it even more unpleasant. Draco signed the forms, located the lockers off to the side, and took it upon himself to seal his things inside.

His guide took up a handheld mirror and spoke into it. "Bringing guest Draco Malfoy to visit prisoner Narcissa Malfoy. Leaving shore now."

"Copy that," said the mirror.

They went outside and climbed into the boat, which began to move of its own volition. A third of the way across the lake, the boat stopped suddenly. The man again spoke into the mirror. "Bringing guest Draco Malfoy to visit prisoner Narcissa Malfoy. First checkpoint reached."

"Copy that," said the mirror.

He repeated the process at two more checkpoints as they crossed the river, then again at the shore. Then again just outside the gates. The wards on the island crackled over Draco's skin in an unsettling manner. They seemed to slide around him, oozing over him. He wondered briefly if they had always been so strong, and if so, how anyone could have doubted that the mass escape of Death Eaters in his fifth year had been facilitated by the Dementors.

And still, even after having passed through wards that would explode magical items, Draco had to endure a full pat-down search by the guards as he entered. They then led him to a gray room. Two doors led into the room from opposite sides. Two chairs stood in the middle of the room, facing each other from a distance of six feet. Draco opted to lean against the wall by his door while he waited for his mother.

Presently, the door opposite him opened, and there she was. But… she didn't look like Narcissa Malfoy. Draco jumped away from the wall in shock, and took several steps forward toward the woman who stood staring at him. She too, seemed to be in shock as she looked at him. The woman was his mother all right—pale, perfect skin, white-blond hair… but… it looked all wrong on her. It hung loosely about her face with no style. No make-up lighted her features. Rather than any one of her fine, tailored dresses, Narcissa Malfoy was wearing a gray jumpsuit. And no longer did she stand with the grandeur of royalty. Instead, she held herself as though she were… human.

She stood there trembling, for all the world looking like an ordinary witch, and not the goddess that Draco had always known his mother to be. And then, a beatific smile spread across her face.

"Draco," she choked, and rushed forward. Halfway across the room, she ran into an invisible barrier. But she hardly seemed to notice. She held up her hand to the magical wall, tracing lines upon it as though she were touching his face. "Come closer," she said, her eyes shining.

Draco looked away. This wasn't his mother. His mother had grace. His mother had poise and elegance to her. This was a woman who looked like his mother. But this was not Narcissa Malfoy.

"Draco?" she said.

He turned back to her. A smile quirked her lips and she turned her head _just so_. And for a moment he saw a light of the women he had known. Still, the guilt flooded through him. How terrible it must be for her, this life that she led. And who the hell was he? He had killed his father, had left his mother to rot in prison. What was he doing here? This was a terrible mistake.

"Draco, come have a seat," she said, and he found he didn't have the courage to refuse her. He made his way forward, sat down tentatively. Across the divide, Narcissa sat facing him.

"You're looking well," she said.

Draco nodded, but he couldn't find his voice.

"What have you been doing since you graduated?" she asked. The curiosity was plain in her voice.

Draco swallowed, and then he told her. He wondered how she would react. "I was in business for a year. But I'm training to be an Auror now."

He steeled himself for it—the screaming, the accusations of betrayal. _How could you turn against your family in such a disgraceful manner?!_ But it never came. He looked up to his mother and saw her looking at him thoughtfully, sadly. She caught his eye and nodded.

"You'll be a great Auror, son," she said.

Draco's jaw dropped open in a way entirely unbefitting of a Malfoy. "You… you're not angry?" he clarified.

"Why would I be angry?" It wasn't a game. It was a genuine question. Draco struggled with it.

"I… you… the Aurors put you in this place."

Narcissa nodded, smiling ruefully. "And I deserved it. And I daresay a good deal more. I count my blessings that I arrived here after the Dementors were already gone. I've done so many terrible things, Draco." She hit him with a pleading, apologetic look. "Were the Dementors here, I imagine I would have gone insane long ago from the memories."

"But… I thought insanity would have been a comfort to you, so you didn't have to experience this place, so you wouldn't have to think."

"Goodness, no! Draco, my mind is all I have left. I wouldn't give that up for anything."

He shook his head. "But that leaves you with the rest of your life, here. In Azkaban. Thinking about it every waking moment. How could you possibly prefer that?"

Narcissa smiled again. "Because it has given me time to change. Priorities change, Draco, and minds change when one had nothing to do but think. I've had ample time to go over my life, to examine all my failings and successes and think about what should have been."

Draco dropped his head into his hands. "I've imagined you spending all your time cursing my name for the ruin I brought upon you."

"Oh, Draco, no. Never that." She paused. Draco stared at the floor between his fingers. "My son," she said tentatively. "Please don't tell me you regret it. What you did."

Draco looked up to her, could feel his eyes swelling with tears.

"I killed him," he whispered.

Narcissa nodded. "I know. But he would have killed everyone. He would have followed _that man_ to the ruin of the wizarding world. And he wouldn't have looked back. And neither would I. We weren't being controlled by the Imperious Curse, but we were not in our right minds. You protected the world from us, Draco. You did the right thing. I only wish we had seen that far, far sooner. That is my only regret for you. You shouldn't have had to do what you did. We shouldn't have put you in that position. But no, I could never curse you for that."

Draco scrubbed at his face, wiping the tears from his eyes. He couldn't speak. This was too much.

There was a loud banging on the door. "Five minutes," a voice yelled in.

"Draco," she said insistently. Her voice was different now, and Draco sensed a change in subject. "Severus must have told you that you cannot get to the Malfoy fortunes without me."

He nodded, not quite understanding. "Yes."

"I want an heir, Draco."

He sat up. "What?"

"I want an heir. I want you to marry and have babies and make the Malfoys proud again after the ruin that your father and I brought them to."

"Mother, I…"

Narcissa shook her head. "Promise me, Draco. Promise me you'll do that and you can have it all. There's no use in me holding onto it here anyway. I'll never be released. Let the name go on."

XIXIX

Ginny was in a foul mood when he got back to the camp. But she shook him off when he asked, insisting instead that he tell her everything that had happened. And so he did.

"Oh, Merlin," she said. "She wants an heir?"

Draco shrugged. "Apparently so. And she's holding the Malfoy fortune ransom to that end."

"Why doesn't she just give it to you?" said Ginny. "If she's so intent on making amends."

"To make sure I don't settle down with a bloke," he said. "I mean, I can still have them, but she wants me to marry a pureblood witch so that I can pass the name down to another generation. The Malfoy name is as old as the wizarding world itself. She doesn't want it to die now, with this terrible stain they left on it."

"Would you really do that?" asked Ginny incredulously.

"Marry and have kids? Well, I haven't thought about it in awhile, but I guess I've always intended on it…"

"But you'd… you'd marry for the name, for an heir, and not for love? You'd still go off gallivanting with other witches and wizards?!"

Draco looked at her, not quite sure what she was on about. "Of course. That's how marriage in the wizarding world works." Ginny dropped her jaw, but Draco persisted. "In order to ensure the purity of bloodlines, obvious sacrifices have to be made. Love, or hell even lust, has to be kept on the side." He looked at her. She still didn't seem to be agreeing. "The Weasleys are purebloods. Surely you realized this. Did your parents never tell you about what would happen when you got married?"

Ginny threw up her hands. "Oh, for the love of… Draco Malfoy, I can't believe you!"

"Well, I don't know why not!" he shot back. They sat seething at each other for awhile, before Ginny finally spoke again changing the subject completely and unexpectedly.

"My brother's missing."

Draco looked over, his anger forgotten. "What? Who?"

"Ron," she said. "I got an owl from my mum while you were out. He's been gone since Monday. He didn't come home from work."

"Oh, gods."

"It's Sunday, Draco. It's been a week. Mum said they hadn't wanted to worry me if it was going to turn out to be nothing, but he really ought to have contacted someone by now. And…"

Ginny reached up to rub her temples. Draco put his hand on her shoulders.

"I'm sure he's okay."

Ginny snorted. "Mum said not to worry, but clearly they're all worried if they were keeping it from me at first, but then decided it wasn't right to keep it from me. Something terrible's happened. I just know it."

Draco sighed. "Has anyone contacted Harry?"

Ginny shook her head. "He's… _gone_ right now. They've left messages at his new house with some girl who apparently lives there."

Draco swallowed hard. He felt like he'd been kicked in the chest. "I'm sure Ron's fine," he said again, not even paying attention to his words.

XIXIX

It had been a week. Hermione ran back to her quarters between every class in order to search for messages. She'd sent out three separate owls every day, all of which came back every night with their letters undelivered. She was going insane.

Remus sat with her in the evenings. Victor tried to offer her some kind words in the hallway outside her sixth year class, but then Hermione heard whispering about how her husband had left because of Professor Krum. She had assigned a 12-foot essay to the class, and hadn't talked publicly to Victor since.

She had contacted every official she knew in the Ministry, but no one had any answers. She had even tried to use her status—her fame as a Seer and war hero—but all to no avail. Either truly no one knew anything, or else no one was talking. Either way, she had no answers. And she wouldn't get them. She could not file a missing persons report. She could not search for him herself. They would wipe her brain of any memory pertaining to her husband.

_Why the hell had they both signed that bloody release?! Why had she let him take that damned job?!_

On Monday morning, Hermione counted off the seventh night in a row that she had not slept. She looked in the mirror and knew she looked insane, and not professional. She suddenly reminded herself more of Trelawney than she cared to admit. She made her way to breakfast, and then to her classes, in a fog. She was teaching her fifth years the theory behind myomancy when she was filled with a sudden dread.

'No, no, no,' she thought. 'Everything's okay, everything's okay…'

But she knew it wasn't. She knew everything was about to change forever.

And then it did. The door opened to her classroom and in walked Headmaster Vallent. He gave her a miserable, apologetic look. "Professor Weasley," he said, "Can I speak to you outside for a moment?"

Hermione looked away. She followed him numbly into the hall, where an official looking wizard was standing. He was wearing a badge that labeled him a representative from the Department of Mysteries. Hermione took one look at it, and wanted to bolt. She wanted to run as far away from the headmaster and this official as she possibly could. She wanted anything in the world than to be standing there with them. She took two steps away. Headmaster Vallent placed his hand on her back. She looked at him, and understanding passed between them.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said.

The Department of Mysteries official cleared his throat. "There's been an accident," he said. "I'm afraid your husb…"

Hermione's wails echoed through the school, drowning out the rest of the fatal proclamation.

XIXIX

XIX

X


	24. Unhappy Reunion

X

XIX

XIXIX "Unhappy Reunion" XIXIX

Hermione felt nothing. She was numb all over, sitting on the loveseat in her quarters, staring at the wall. She could hear words being spoken all around her, but they were so far away she didn't bother to try to pay attention to what exactly was happening. Snatches of the conversations would breach her consciousness, further convincing her she should just stay the hell out of it. She wanted no part of the world going on around her.

Ginny's voice was muffled though she was clearly shouting. "What do you mean you'd can't release the body?! The funeral will be incomplete! We won't be able to give him a proper apparition on his tombstone!"

Hermione didn't hear the answer, though Ginny clearly did since her shouting continued shortly thereafter. She must be making a firecall to an official at the Ministry. It sounded awful. Hermione continued to stare at nothing.

Then Ginny and Draco were yelling at each other. Fighting? No. Just angry. Just yelling to let it all out. Must be an Auror thing. Hermione tried to ignore them, but sometimes the words got through.

"I don't bloody care! He should be here!"

"Draco, there's no point. He's _gone_ right now."

"Well, then that _woman in his house_ is sodding well going to tell me where he's at!"

"She didn't the other six times you called!"

Hermione didn't shake her head or tsk at them. But she would have if she were at all connected to that world. If that scene had anything to do with her.

Draco probably made the firecall. Hermione wasn't sure. She didn't care. It didn't matter. There was a long, brooding silence after that. Low voices. Sometimes they spoke about her. To her. Sometimes they said nothing. But she wasn't really there. It didn't matter.

"Hermoninny?"

Victor entered her field of vision. He was directly in front of her but the distance that separated them was vast, and Hermione wasn't inclined to cross it. Not for him. Not for anything.

"Hermoninny, an owl came for you from the Department of Mysteries."

He waved a parchment in front of her face. It didn't matter. She wouldn't take it.

"Give it to me," said Ginny, and they left her alone.

But then there was yelling again. And then Ginny's shouts were muffled through the fireplace.

"Why in _bloody hell_ would you dissolve their marriage?! He's already dead! That breaks the magical binds!"

It went on and on. Hermione stayed where she was, a wholly separate plane of existence. Exactly where she intended to stay. There was nothing for her in that other place. There was no reason to go back. She felt a weight on the sofa next to her, but that hardly mattered.

"Hermione?" A soft voice. A gentle touch on her shoulder. Hermione turned her head to look at Remus. He gazed back with worried, kind eyes. She held onto them.

"Hermione, you don't have to be here. Do you want me to take you home?"

The Seer's heart ached with visions—memories—of her non-magical home. She had never felt more separate from it than she did now. Her husband was dead from unknown magical causes. Though she yearned for comfort from her parents, she wanted _nothing less_ than to go back to the magically dead mundanity of her home world.

She shook her head.

"Do you want to go to the Burrow?"

The image of Molly and Arthur swam through her mind's eye, and tears leaked through her defenses, falling almost unnoticed.

"I'm not ready to face them," she whispered.

Remus nodded. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I do want my mum and dad," she said. "Can you bring them here?"

The werewolf hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Of course," he said.

He got up and left. Draco, Ginny, and Victor crowded around her, now that she had returned to them. And she cried with them, and spoke with them about what the Ministry had said about not releasing Ron's body, about dissolving their marriage for some inexplicable reason. After what seemed a very long time, Hermione remembered how much her parents feared and hated Remus.

"Oh my god. I asked Remus to bring my parents here."

Victor nodded, not getting it. "They vill need an escort in order to find the campus. The vards vould not let them in othervise."

But Draco was already on his feet. "I'll go," he said, with a cocky grin to assuage her anxiety. "Parents love me because I'm charming. I'll make sure everyone gets back here smoothly." He gave her a steady look to ensure he knew what this situation meant, and then he too was gone.

XIXIX

It was evening already. Remus wasn't sure if he hoped the Grangers were home from work already or not. But regardless of his true hopes, he strode boldly to their front door and knocked. Then he stepped back off the front porch and a few paces more into the yard. The last thing he wanted to do was create an impression with the fearful muggles that he was there to attack them. A nice, respectful distance should help matters. Hopefully.

The front door opened and Remus cursed silently while he smiled hello. Edith smiled back before she recognized him. He watched as horror spread across her face. In the next moment, she slammed the door shut. Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.

Right. How was he going to do this?

"Hermione asked me to come get you," he called out.

There was no response.

"She needs you right now."

Still no response.

"Please," he called. "I just want to talk. I'll stay back here. I don't mean any harm."

He waited, wondering what to do if they didn't come out, if they wouldn't talk to him. He could slip a message through the mail slot. Maybe they'd read it. But they still wouldn't be able to get to Durmstang without him. And Hermione needed her parents right now. He had to make this work. Maybe if he called Luna. The Grangers knew her well enough, and let her in the house.

But then the door opened. Ten centimeters. A chain kept it connected to the house. Edith Granger's face pressed into the open crack.

"What do you want?" Her voice shook. Remus raised his hands and she let out a cry. "Stay back!" He immediately shifted his hands into a position of surrender, and cursed Fenrir Greyback again. He was far too used to assuming this position for there to be much left to his dignity. He might be a werewolf, but he was human too, damn it.

"Okay," he said softly. "Okay. I'm going to stay back here. There's been an accident and the Ministry of Magic, and Ron's been killed. Hermione really needs you right now. She sent me to come and retrieve you and Cecil."

Edith stared at him suspiciously. "Why did she send you? Why didn't she come herself?"

"She's in shock," he said. "She only just found out this afternoon. She's not doing too well."

"She should come home, then," said Edith.

This was getting nowhere. Remus began preparing his next set of persuasions when he heard a car coming down the street. Some instinct within him shied away from the approaching vehicle even before it pulled into the driveway next to him. And with good reason. Cecil was already shouting when he jumped out of the driver's seat.

"Get off of my property, you fiend! I'll call the police! I'll _expose you_ for what you are!"

Remus stepped back and back again, his hands still held up in surrender. Somehow this could work, but in the face of a screaming, overprotective husband and father, Remus was damned if he knew how.

He ducked his head submissively, trying to indicate to Cecil that he could have all the power here, that Remus was not the one in control.

"Hermione sent me," he said calmly. "Ron's been killed. Your daughter needs you."

"Cecil," said Edith shakily, coming outside. "He says he came to take us to Durmstang."

"_Edith, get back in the house!_ We're not going anywhere with this monster. For all we know _he_ killed Ron." Cecil stormed toward the house.

Remus paled, angered. It was all he could do to keep from clenching his hands into fists. These muggles were worse than the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They weren't going to go anywhere with him.

"I did no such thing," he said, forcing meekness into his voice and hating himself for it. "Please, Hermione needs her parents right now. And the fact that she sent _me_ of all people should show you how desperate she is."

Cecil turned on him, incensed. "Can you prove my son-in-law is dead? Can you prove my daughter isn't? How do we know you're not just trying to cart us off somewhere to kill us too?"

"If he were here to kill you, you'd be dead already."

Out of nowhere it seemed, Draco Malfoy was standing in the Grangers' driveway, leaning against their car. He looked suave and businesslike, and a damn sight more composed than Remus had seen him since he and Ginny had showed up at Durmstang a few hours ago. Remus had never been happier to see a Malfoy in his life. His very presence seemed to deflate the outrage that had been building in the Grangers, leaving nothing but befuddlement.

"Mr. Granger," he said, striding forward with his hand outstretched. Cecil took it dumbly. "Mrs. Granger." Draco nodded to Edith where she stood at the door.

"We've never been formally introduced. I'm Draco Malfoy, a good friend of your daughter's."

"Draco Malfoy?" coughed Cecil. "My daughter hates you. She told us all about how you used to bully her and her friends."

Draco laughed, as though fondly reminiscing. "Ah, she was no peach back then, either, let me tell you." He reached up and rubbed the side of his face, as though still smarting from her punch in third year.

But Cecil wouldn't let it go. "And didn't I see your father get into a fistfight with Arthur Weasley once in that wizard bookshop?"

The smile left Draco's face immediately. "Perhaps, but that was a long time ago. My father died in the war. On the wrong side of it, unfortunately," he added.

Cecil turned red again at the mention of the war. He opened his mouth, presumably to begin another rant, but Draco cut him off swiftly.

"But the current state of things is this. Your daughter and her husband are good friends of mine, and now Ron is dead. I don't really _care_ if you have a problem with the wizarding world or with the fact that one of Hermione's coworkers is a werewolf. What I care about is that your daughter didn't speak for almost four hours after she found out she lost her husband. And when she did speak again, her first words were to ask Professor Lupin here to retrieve her _parents_. Now you are going to come with us, and then you are going to comfort your daughter. You. Will. Do. This. I will use magical force if necessary."

Cecil was shaking. "I will not stand for this," he hissed.

"Oh, for gods' sakes!" Draco exploded. "Your daughter's husband just died! Can't you climb down from your high horse for one bloody day?!"

"Cecil," said Edith softly, walking up behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders. "Remember what she did with that teapot. They can do anything they want. We may as well just go."

The Grangers shared a long look, a silent conversation passing between their eyes. Remus wasn't sure what was going on, but they had clearly steeled themselves with some sort of determination by the time they nodded and looked back to the wizards.

"If you're going to apparate us," said Edith, "We'll need to go around back so the neighbors don't see."

But Cecil cut her an almost stern look. "Right here is fine," he said pointedly.

"No, that's okay," said Remus. "We can go around back."

Cecil hesitated, then went to his car to retrieve what looked like a take-away dinner. "Come along then," he said, and led everyone through his house.

Draco cut Remus a look and rolled his eyes. "Muggles."

XIXIX

Harry apparated into his living room, and immediately lay back down. He promised himself wholeheartedly that he would never get up again. He could live the rest of his life on a couch. There was nothing wrong with that. His first 19 years had been active enough. No one could fault him for retiring a half century early.

"I thought I heard you."

Harry peaked one eye open to see the smiling face of Mala Suerte. He was happy to see her. She would take good care of him. She would help him stay on the couch forever.

"I'll make some tea," she said. "Are you hungry?"

Harry thought for a minute, willing his head to clear enough so he could understand what she was talking about. Mala waited patiently. She knew the drill. She'd been here with him before. It always took Harry a bit to become coherent again. Harry loved how patient she was content to be, and he loved that if she did harbor any curiosity or hopes for actual friendship, she never, ever let it show.

Eventually he figured out what she meant, and decided that he was in fact hungry. He nodded. Mala grinned and was gone. Harry stared into his eyelids for a while. Then he decided to try his hand in staring at the ceiling. Seemed to work fine. Presently, he could smell food. His stomach rumbled. Yep, he was hungry, all right.

Slowly, he pried himself off the couch. He looked down at it and realized twigs and leaves were falling off of his clothes, out of his hair. Then Mala was by his side. She grabbed him underneath his arm and helped him toward the kitchen.

"I'll clean it up," she said. "Don't worry about it. We need to get you some food and a shower. You'll feel better soon enough."

Harry nodded, counting himself lucky one more time that this woman had fallen into his life. She never asked a single personal question. She never demanded anything from him. Life was so much easier when you lived with someone who took care of you, but who didn't care about you. Take love out of the equation and you have… nothing. No problems, that is.

Harry thought of his loved ones and a great sadness swept through him. Then Mala helped him to his seat and set up a meal before him, a hot cup of tea, and a clean napkin to contrast the filthy state he was in. Yet again.

While he ate, Mala spoke slowly and deliberately about household matters. It was nothing personal to either of them, or interesting for that matter. Just things that had happened since he had been gone.

"I planted four prickly rose bushes at the corners of the garden. They're supposed to flower in the dead of winter if you plant them early fall, so we may be able to have some color outside when everything else has turned gray. I broke one of the plates yesterday. But I fixed it quickly enough. I lost one of the chips, though, so it's not quite perfect…"

And on and on. Harry didn't know if she did this on purpose, but it was a great help to him. She wouldn't say anything important while he was recovering (as far as he could tell), but she kept up a steady stream of conversation. And all the while she spoke, Harry's comprehension slowly returned to him. Eventually he would start answering her. At that point, she would start talking about anything that might affect him.

"I got a great cut of meat at the market yesterday. I think I'll roast it tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Are there any potatoes?"

"Yeah, red potatoes. We don't have any greens though."

"I'll pick some up in the morning."

Then she would shoo him off to take a shower or a nap. She would clean up after him. And when he returned, refreshed and coherent, they would go about their own business as though they hardly realized the other person was still in the house. Except today was different. When Harry emerged from his shower into the living room, dressed and clean, Mala Suerte intercepted him.

"Are you ready for your messages?" she asked.

Harry stared at her. "I have messages?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to relay them until you were ready. Are you?"

Harry nodded. "I guess so." They sat down in front of the fireplace.

She held up a short stack of parchments and flipped through them. "Severey Snape would like you to contact him immediately. He said you have his contact information."

"I do."

"Draco Malfoy firecalled…" she flipped through the stack, "Eleven times between Monday and Wednesday." She paused and looked at him to clarify, "Today is Thursday, September 14."

Harry nodded. "What did he want?"

"He said Ron Wesley has died. The funeral is this afternoon. He says it's really important for Jenny and Hermaney that you make it."

"Oh my god."

Harry nearly threw up. He dropped his head into his hands and felt his chest collapse in upon itself. Ron was dead. How could this have happened? Oceans of guilt flooded through Harry. He should have been there. If he had been there he could have stopped it. Oh god, why did he leave? Why had he left?!

"How?" he croaked.

Mala stared at him, alarmed at the display of emotion. She seemed torn between comforting him and running away. Finally, she cleared her throat and turned back to her messages, keeping her distance. "Um…" she flipped through the parchments. "I don't know. Mr. Malfoy didn't say."

"What time is the funeral?" Harry was shaking.

"3:00. It's not for another… oh Merlin." Mala Suerte covered her face with her hand. She looked apologetically through her fingers. "I'm sorry. I thought there was more time. But it's got to be 3:00 their time. It starts in ten minutes."

Harry nodded. "There's time. Where is it?"

XIXIX

He arrived only moments before the procession left the funeral parlor. Almost immediately, Harry found himself buried in a mass of bushy hair. He hugged Hermione tightly, holding her against him like a lifeline.

"Oh, Harry!" she sobbed. "Thank god you made it. I was so worried…"

"I'm here," he whispered hoarsely. "I only just heard a minute ago. I can't believe it. What happened?"

Then Ginny was there with them. "An accident at work," she said, wrapping her arms around both their shoulders. "Harry, I'm so glad you're here."

The funeral was a somber, unfinished affair. Since the Department of Mysteries refused to release the body, there was nothing to say goodbye to. The procession weaved solemnly through the graveyard, following nothing but itself. At the "gravesite," a marker was placed next to Bill's apparition. But rather than "Here lies Ron Weasley," it read, "In Memory of Ronald Weasley, Brother, Son, and Loving Husband."

XIXIX

The Grangers had stayed with Hermione at Durmstang, which had turned out to be a mixed blessing. It was good to have her parents close, and they had worked very hard to be civil to everyone, including Remus. But her friends and coworkers had had many conversations about Ron and his work around them. Her parents had learned that Ron's job had not been boring office work, that he had in fact held one of the most prestigious, exciting, dangerous, and mysterious jobs that could be held. But though Hermione could tell that this new information affected them greatly, they kept their mouths shut about it.

And then her mother had set about cleaning up the place, reorganizing almost everything. Hermione understood that it was probably done out of some mothering instinct, but now she couldn't find things. And strange things too—a book of wizarding photographs of her and her friends at Hogwarts, her favorite mirror (the one that always made sure to compliment her sweetly no matter how bushy her hair was), and the dancing tea set that the Weasley twins had given them as a wedding present.

Hermione couldn't imagine why her mother would feel the need to put those things somewhere other than where she'd found them. And for the life of her, she had no idea where that "somewhere" might be.

But she supposed it didn't matter. Her parents had come for her, had entered her world in order to be with her. And that meant a lot. After the funeral, they returned to the muggle world, and Hermione went with everyone else to the Burrow.

She was squeezed into the loveseat between Harry and Ginny. Draco was there too, and Neville. And, she had been surprised to notice, Lokstavian Azghard had come to the funeral as well. She guessed he and Ginny were back together. Charlie and the twins were with their mother in the kitchen. Remus, Arthur, and Kingsley Shacklebot had gone out into the back yard.

She leaned her head onto Harry shoulders. "I still can't believe he's gone," she said.

"Me neither. When did it happen?"

"Dunno. It's classified. He'd been missing for a week. They sent word on Monday."

Harry was quiet for a long time. Then he slid his arm around her and dropped his cheek onto the top of her head. She was glad he had made it, but at the same time, she felt irritated it had taken him so long to come. It was unfair and she knew it, but she couldn't help thinking that if he had really cared about Ron, he would have come sooner.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered, and she could almost feel his heart breaking. "I know how you feel."

She let out a breath. "What would you know of it?" It was sharper than she'd meant it to be.

"Oh," he said. "It's just… I mean, through Severus. He had a lover who worked for the Department of Mysteries. He died too. It was the same mess. They wouldn't release the body… god, it was awful."

Just then Molly came into the room, followed by her remaining sons. Hermione's eyes met hers, and the power of their grief connected them. Hermione felt as though she were pulled bodily from the couch. She went to Molly and they hugged each other closely, and then they walked away together, into Molly and Arthur's bedroom, and closed the door.

"Come on," said Fred glumly to his brothers. "Let's go through his room."

Ginny stirred on the couch, almost alarmed. Harry looked to her, then back to the Weasley men. "What are you doing?"

George shrugged. "We're going to make sure it's safe for mum to clean out later. She may have raised six boys, but that doesn't mean she has to find hidden nudey witch magazines and the like."

Charlie punched him in the shoulder and nodded toward Ginny. Fred waved him off. "Oh, she's one of us."

"Still," said Ginny dryly. "I don't want to know what you find."

"And you never will," said Charlie kindly.

The boys headed off up the stairs, and Harry looked around at the group that was left: himself, Ginny, Neville, Lokstavian, and Draco. Harry rather wished everyone would just go away and leave him and his twin alone. Well, Neville could stay. But he certainly couldn't see any reason for either of their exes to stick around. Ginny didn't seem bothered by the company, but Harry noticed that Neville and Lokstavian didn't seem too happy to be in such close proximity. And Lokstavian seemed to also hold a lot of animosity toward Draco. Draco, for his part, couldn't even look at Harry but to glare at him. Not that Harry could blame him.

The blonde in question looked up and Harry knew he'd been caught staring. He cleared his throat and moved closer to Ginny on the sofa. Ginny glanced over and caught some look in Draco's eye and shook her head in warning. Neville looked among Ginny and Harry and Draco, and shifted uncomfortably. Then he looked over to Lokstavian and just looked miserable. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply at the same moment that Draco recrossed his legs and let out a breath. They looked at each other and then away. Ginny slumped her head backwards onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Harry could feel sadness and disappointment radiating from her in waves. He swallowed guiltily. Neville shifted again and Harry looked over to find him staring intensely at Ginny with an empathetic dedication. Just as soon as he saw it, it was gone, and replaced by the easy cheerfulness that one typically expected from him.

He broke the awkward silence almost immediately. "It's good to have us all back together again," he said with an almost pointed optimism. He met the eyes of each man in the room, cocking his head slightly toward Ginny. 'Make an effort, for her sake,' he was clearly saying.

"Yeah," said Harry, almost smiling. Almost. "At least we're all together."

Draco rolled his eyes ungraciously, frowned in discontent.

Lokstavian smirked, a glint playing in his eyes. "How has everyone been?" he asked smoothly. "Draco, I haven't seen you in years. How's business?"

Draco cut him a look. "Over."

"And how's Kyle? Have you kept up with him?"

"No."

Even after all this time, Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach, felt his cheeks burn at the mention of his name.

"Then who… I'm sorry, I mean _what_ have you been doing?"

"Loky…" groaned Ginny, still staring at the ceiling.

"What? I'm just _curious_ to know if he's screwed over any more of his friends since I last saw him."

"Lokstavian," said Neville softly, "This really isn't the time."

"Sure it is. He's partnering up with my girlfriend, isn't he? I have a right to know if he's planning on dropping her first sign of trouble, too."

"Oh, grow up," snapped Harry. Draco may not be number one on his list of people to hang out with, but even Harry could tell Lokstavian wasn't being fair to him. "That was a long time ago," he said, softer. "Just let it go."

"Have you?" Loky gave him a challenging look. The air seemed to tingle with anticipation.

He caught Harry's eye and held it. And of course he was right. Harry hadn't let it go. But this was neither the time nor the place to be rehashing old slights. Why was this guy even here? Had Ginny really gotten back together with him? And why? Harry didn't remember him being such an arse when he knew him in school. But of course, Harry never really knew him.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" asked Draco in low tones, not looking up.

A sneer crossed Lokstavian's face, but then disappeared with some realization. His cheeks colored as he glanced at his watch.

"No," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "But I must be going. Father will miss me if I'm too late."

"Surely," said Draco with faux casualness, "He'll make an exception for a funeral."

Loky looked away as he stood. "I'm sorry, Ginny, that I have to leave so soon."

Draco looked at him incredulously. "You didn't tell him, did you? Are you hiding your relationship with my partner from your fa…"

"Draco," said Ginny warningly, and Draco fell silent. Ginny stood to walk with Lokstavian to the front door. Neville watched them go, his face suddenly devoid of all emotion. When he turned back, his eyes stared into nothing and he stayed lost in his own thoughts. Harry and Draco returned to an awkward silence.

After too many seconds stretched on Harry thought, 'This is stupid,' and decided to speak.

"How have you been, Draco?" he said, and was pleased that his voice didn't crack in any embarrassing way.

Draco looked at him suspiciously, but then seemed to accept it as an innocuous enough question. "I've been well," he said. "You?"

Harry nodded. "Everything's the same."

Draco gave him a look that bordered on incredulous, and Harry wondered why his answer would have inspired such an expression. Nothing was new, really. He'd gotten a house and hired an assistant of sorts… but that could hardly concern his ex boyfriend.

"Anything new with you?" he tried.

Draco shrugged. He glanced toward the door, saw that Ginny wasn't coming through, and answered. "I'm getting married," he said.

Harry's heart exploded and he coughed. "What?!"

"I'm getting married," Draco repeated simply, with a self-satisfied smile. Harry reined in his emotions, determined that Draco would not get the upper hand with this.

"That's really good to hear," he said, and with feeling. Earnest feelings, he hoped. Draco's smile faltered a bit, so Harry figured he had approximated sincerity. He plunged on. "To whom?"

"I haven't decided yet. But I'll keep you posted," answered Draco smoothly. Then he cut Harry an almost accusing look. "I'll just leave a message with your girlfriend, shall I?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "Who, Mala?"

Draco laughed. "That's the name of the girl you're shacking up with?"

"It's not like that. She works for me."

"You have to _pay_ her?"

Harry felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "_It's not like that. _She helps me readjust when I've been gone awhile. My… job… takes me away from real life sometimes. I… I lose track of things."

Draco scoffed. "Seems like the perfect job for you. Get to run away on a moment's notice."

"I don't _run away._"

"You always run away, Harry," said the blonde, cutting Harry to the core with a glare that melted his heart. "It's what you do," he added.

Harry swallowed thickly.

"That's enough."

Ginny was standing in the doorway, bracing herself against the frame. She looked just awful, like she had only just been holding herself together and had lost the will to do it any longer.

"This has been a shitty enough week. You two can fight or shag or whatever you want, but don't do it here."

She lunged forward unsteadily, lurching toward the stairs. Neville got up to follow her, but Harry intercepted. "I'll go," he said.

Neville started to argue, but Harry didn't let him.

"She's my twin. We need to be together right now. Thanks for coming, mate."

He started to go, but stopped on the first step. He looked over and said, "Draco, for what it's worth…"

Draco looked up to him, his expression guarded.

"I _am_ sorry."

And then he followed his twin up to her room. Ginny was curled up on her bed, shaking uncontrollably. Harry crawled into the bed next to her and folded himself around her. And they stayed together.

After some time had passed, Harry began to speak. He spoke of anything, just to speak, just to hold them together, bound through their words, through their connection to each other, but wholly apart from the misery that otherwise held them captive. Harry spoke of his remembered adventures in bounty hunting. He showed her through the bond the scenes of clashes, of rescues, of reunions of lost loved ones, of celebration.

And then Ginny was speaking. She spoke of her Auror training, of rivalries with her fellows, of the struggle to be better than the best, of past episodes that wouldn't stop haunting, of stereotypes and prejudices and an unending determination to ride out the frustration.

"I'm still just so new," she said. "All I've ever wanted is to figure out how to make the world a better place. And I feel in my gut that this could be it, if only… if only I could make it up there. But it'll be forever before I can get into the higher ranks with the way things are."

Harry looked over to her. "How is it?"

Ginny stared at the ceiling. "I guess you don't really know," she said. "The Ministry, Harry… it's… it's fascist. Fudge has taken over everything. People can't speak out against him or they're silenced or disappeared. Or he uses the Prophet and that damned woman Willa Raspberry to destroy their reputation so no one will even listen to them. And gods, sometimes it seems like half the Ministry, half the Aurors too, are under the Imperius Curse."

She laughed and Harry studied her to see if she was joking. If she was, it was only by half.

"I think Draco and I might be blacklisted," she said. "Our Sergeant seems to like us well enough. And truth be told, no exaggeration or self-congratulatory bullshit… we really are the best team at the camp. But already these other two arseholes who _mess up everything_ have been offered positions. Or at least, they've been guaranteed that they'll be offered positions."

"So the Ministry's hiring arseholes," said Harry. "That doesn't prove…"

"It's not just that," cut in Ginny. "It's the way these guys operate. They're rabidly loyal to the Ministry, no matter how bad it gets. And they'll do absolutely anything in order to get what they want. They'll break all the rules and put people in danger and they don't care just so long as they advance the Ministry's agenda. And if these are the guys that are going to be running the Aurors in a decade… I just don't know."

They were silent for a long time. Ginny was chewing on her words, holding something back from Harry.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Keep trying. And…"

Ginny turned on her side suddenly. She propped herself up on her elbow and set Harry with a dead even glare. The intensity of the fire in her gaze unsettled him.

"Something bad happened to Ron, Harry. It just doesn't add up… how he disappeared for a week before they said there was an accident, and then how the Department of Mysteries wouldn't release his body. And they dissolved Ron and Hermione's marriage even though that happens automatically in death. It's just… not right. Something's not right."

Harry swallowed hard. "Do you think they killed him?"

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know. But something bad happened to my brother. And I am hereby making a solemn vow to the universe that I will find out what."

XIXIX

XIX

X


	25. All Life's Truths

X

XIX

XIXIX "All Life's Truths" XIXIX

The pounding on his door was relentless, and eventually broke Severus entirely away from his slumber. He kicked his way out of bed, cursing loudly. Pulling on his night robe, he vowed that whoever was standing at his door was going to suffer a very slow and painful death at his hands. He heaved in a deep breath, stood tall, and flung the door open, towering over the visitor with as much malice as he could manage.

It didn't last.

He should have known Ginny Weasley would come to him eventually. She pushed past him without an invitation. Severus sighed and let her, deflating with foreboding of the conversation to come. Bugger.

"And why exactly are you banging on my door at three in the bloody morning?" he asked, more weary than angry.

"Your serpent guardian refused to call you," she snapped.

"That would be because I instructed it not to."

"Then how else am I supposed to wake you up?"

Severus managed not to raise an eyebrow in sleepy amusement.

"Ms. Weasley, there had better be a good reason you are here, and an even better reason that this could not wait until a proper hour of morning."

Ginny looked him in the eye for the first time. If he had not known better, he'd have thought he had trained the glare that shaped her red-rimmed eyes. It was truly impressive. She set her mouth and Severus could tell she was struggling to keep her lips from trembling. She was doing quite well.

"I'm expected back at 0500 and may not be able to get leave again for weeks. And I want you to tell me about Julian Solis."

Severus gawked at her. He should have seen this coming. In fact, he _had_ seen this coming. He had simply ignored it coming because he hadn't wanted to deal with it. And now here it was. Bugger.

"Why don't you ask Harry?"

Ginny cut him a withering glare, and Severus caught her meaning. He felt inside himself for his bond to Harry, which was closed off so completely it felt as though it did not exist. Bugger.

"I see."

"He was with me. I told him that I knew something had happened to Ron and I vowed to find out what it was, and a few minutes later he got up to go to the loo and never came back."

In his mind, Severus was groaning. There was nothing he wanted less than to speak of his former lover to a former student. Even to Ginny Weasley, who was not so bad as former students went. He really wished that, were Harry going to speak about Julian at all, he would at least have the decency to stick around and say everything so that further questions would not come knocking on his door at three in the morning. Bugger.

He moved to the sitting area and settled himself into an armchair. Ginny followed suit. With his eyes shut, Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose and asked, "What do you know, and what do you want to know?"

"I know that he worked for the Department of Mysteries. I know that his body was found two years ago, that he died in the year before that. And I know that the Department of Mysteries had said that he died, like, _fifteen years_ earlier."

Severus nodded. Still did not look at her. "Sixteen," he said.

"I know…" she fumbled for words, "About your relationship. So I figure if anyone knows about these things, it's you."

"What do you want to know?" he rasped.

"What happened to him? Why would they report him dead if he'd been alive all that time? Where was he and what would he have been doing? Was he working for them still? Was he a prisoner? How…" she trailed off. Severus looked up at her, met her eye. She continued. "How do I find out if… if it's the same with Ron? How do I know if he's really dead? And how do I find out what happened to him?"

Severus nodded, taking a moment to distinguish between what she thought she wanted to know, and what she really needed to know. The silence hung between them. He'd have given just about anything to let it continue that way, but he knew she would not leave without _some sort_ of answer.

"I don't know what happened to Julian," he said slowly. "Similar to your brother, the Department of Mysteries reported he was dead, but would not release the body. It's not uncommon. Some people say it's because the bodies radiate some sort of dangerous magical energy, or that discovering the exact cause of death would reveal top-secret information compromising to national security. Or maybe the bodies are just disfigured beyond recognition, or maybe there aren't any bodies at all, as in the case of Sirius Black."

Ginny swallowed hard.

"As for Julian, I don't know what he was working on. Because was an Unspeakable, he was not allowed to divulge that information. Similarly, because he was an Unspeakable, no one was or is allowed to investigate his life, work, or death, under the penalty of having their brains wiped of any information remotely regarding the man. I'd have lost years of my life had they discovered I was looking into it."

"Then you did look into it?"

Severus cut her a look. "I suggest you think about how very many of your memories regard your brother before you decide to go poking about into his cause of death."

"But what if he's not dead?"

"Every conversation you ever had with him, or about him. Every family dinner. Every moment at school you were with him. Every class assignment he helped you with. Every Quidditch game you played. Every battle strategy you outlined. Every bit of knowledge or training you acquired while he was present or on your mind. I daresay they would harvest from that brain of yours nearly every memory of your life."

"My god. Professor…"

"In short, there is no point in hoping that your brother is still alive. And you'd do very well to break that vow you made to find out what happened to him. If they discover you've learned _anything_ about the work he's done, actions he's taken, or consequences he's suffered while being an Unspeakable, they will destroy you. Whether or not your brother is dead, he is gone. And he will continue to be gone until he _is_ dead."

They sat in silence for a very long time, and Severus hated himself for having to break the young woman's hope. But even more, he hated the Department of Mysteries for making it necessary. Dumbledore had had a similar conversation with him so many years ago, and Severus had heeded his words. Eventually. And he had forced himself to believe and accept that Julian was dead.

Minutes passed. Ginny began to tremble, although she held her face neutral. After several minutes more, the trembling subsided. She met Severus' eye suddenly, as though just remembering that he was still there.

"Okay," she said. "It's just that everything seems so suspicious. I can't trust anything the Ministry says anymore. There have just been so many lies but… it's like no one notices. Or cares. And I don't _buy_ what they say about how Dumbledore died and how Mad-Eye Moody disappeared. But on the other hand, Moody couldn't really have been right either. There's no way Dumbledore could have been murdered. And no one could ever have broken into Hogwarts anyway."

Severus shifted in his seat. Someone _had_ broken into Hogwarts, he thought. Multiple times.

"And then you add in all this crap about the Axis of Darkness, and fighting Death Eater governments, and Fudge is taking away everyone's rights one by one, and no one can speak out against him… I can't believe things they say that don't even affect me. How am I supposed to believe them when they say my brother died?"

It was a bloody good question, Severus reflected. And one for which he did not have an answer.

XIXIX

"Headmistress McGonagall."

"What is it, Severus?"

She was stern as always, sitting behind her desk in what was once Albus Dumbledore's office. Had Severus not just walked there himself, he would perhaps doubt he was in the proper location. The room was entirely different. Whirligigs and bizarre magical knick-knacks were gone. As was Fawkes. The precisely ordered space was a stark contrast to Albus' previously precise chaos.

Severus cleared his throat as he sat down. The squashy comfort of plush was gone. Ornately carved wood replaced it.

"Do you believe this room is secure?" he asked.

McGonagall looked up, regarded him with a critical eye. "I would say yes, but there is perhaps one former headmaster who might disagree." She let out a swift and stern breath before continuing, "Nevertheless, I have swept this room over a dozen times and have never come up with anything. I believe it to be secure, only… in these times it is hard to be certain."

Severus inclined his head, wondering just how much was safe to say aloud anywhere anymore. He had swept his own room countless times, and rarely bothered to say anything worthy of note outside of it. This was certainly not an age in which one with a loose tongue was safe. His training as a Death Eater spy had certainly prepared him for this postwar era of peace and prosperity. However, certain matters begged discussion.

"Minerva, how involved were you in maintaining the wards while you were Deputy Headmistress?"

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "As involved as you are. The responsibility tends not to vary from one to the next. It is not a matter of personality how conscientious one must be in protecting the school."

Severus nodded. "Did you or Albus ever discover the source of the… _anomaly_ that we discussed before Mr. Potter graduated?"

"No."

"And did the anomaly continue after he left the school grounds?"

"Yes, for a time. Although Albus was of the belief that it never did stop completely, just that it was better concealed later on."

"Are you of that belief as well?"

"Not entirely. On the one hand I trust Albus' instincts. On the other, I haven't the slightest idea how it could be done. The shear amount of magic, for one thing, to create pockets within the wards that cannot be discovered by those who hold them… I… I also have trouble imagining _how_ that magic could possibly work. It is simply unlike anything I know of warding magic. And I know a good deal."

"Of course," Severus added, "It could explain… some of the logistics…"

McGonagall huffed. "But not all of them. Even if someone were able to find a way to break into Hogwarts, it does not explain how anyone could possibly murder Albus Dumbledore."

Severus eyed her, feeling both admiration and exasperation that she had said it aloud. It could be reckless. But something had to be done. And Dumbledore had been, Severus remembered, a big believer in naming the evil to be fought against.

"At the time I had only been concerned with Harry," he admitted. "When Albus told me of the problem with the wards, it never occurred to me that any other person might possibly be the goal of a potential attack."

"An irony, that," said McGonagall. "You were concerned that someone might try to kill the single most powerful wizard on the planet, and it turns out the goal was the second most powerful."

"Both unlikely targets."

"If Albus was murdered, and if it was by the same someone who has been breaching the wards for so many years…"

Severus nodded, "Then we are dealing with someone who possesses both immense power, and immense patience."

"Have you spoken with Harry?"

"No. And I won't. It is not his job to destroy every Dark wizard that passes through in his lifetime."

"Even if he is the only one who could?"

Severus' stomach clenched. It simply wasn't fair. The boy deserved peace.

XIXIX

It was weeks before Ginny and Draco were able to arrange another leave, which was just as well. Ginny needed to reassess the potential consequences of her vow. If she were going to move forward with this, she had to make sure that she was walking into it with her eyes open. The last thing she wanted was to make a mistake that she would regret forever. If she were going to do something that could affect the rest of her life, and probably the life of her twin, she wanted to know sure and well that she was at least doing it on purpose.

Harry was no help to her at all. He disappeared that first night, and every time thereafter that she broached the subject telepathically, he would snap their bond shut so quickly she wouldn't even have time to take it back. There was simply no discussing it with him. Ginny decided he was reacting badly to the loss of yet another loved one.

For her part, Ginny realized she could not live with the uncertainty. She had lost half of her brothers. They could not have saved Bill. Merlin knows they all tried. He had to have been bonded to Fleur already, and a mighty powerful bond at that. Ginny thought of losing Harry, even as distant as they had grown, and she couldn't blame him. She wouldn't want to go on living knowing that Harry was not also somewhere on this Earth.

They would never know for sure how Percy had been turned to Voldemort's service, and that was the shame because that was the moment at which they had lost him. Ron had killed the monster he had become. Ron had sought vengeance against her torturer. Ginny owed him for that. But, she finally decided, even if she didn't, he was family. If it was even remotely possible he was still alive, she would have to try and find him. He was family. She had to, consequences be damned.

So as soon as she and Draco could secure leave, they went to Durmstang to visit Hermione. She was looking pretty bad. She had lost weight and her robes hung off of her. Her hair was bushier than ever and her hollow eyes blinked owlishly from behind the mass of her curls. Ginny couldn't help it; she hugged her so tightly when she arrived. Hermione felt almost fragile in her arms.

"How are you?"

Hermione attempted a smile while Ginny and Draco led her to her own sitting area in her quarters. Ginny and Hermione sat on the couch, while Draco took the chair opposite them.

"Oh, you know. Some days are better than others."

"How are your classes going?"

"Fine. The kids actually seem almost… too terrified to misbehave right now. Like they're afraid I'll explode. Or shatter." She chuckled lightly. "Sometimes I feel like I might."

There was a knock at the door. Hermione blinked at it, but made no move to answer it. Draco got up for her. He thought he might have been surprised when he saw Remus standing there, but he wasn't. Draco knew he'd always had a soft spot where Hermione was concerned.

He thought back to years ago, on the day of the infamous Tremor Mole Incident. Draco had thought he might get to have Harry to himself for several hours that afternoon, but Hermione had owled Remus about some sort of vision that something bad was about to happen to Harry. And when Hermione calls, Remus comes running. Add Harry into the mix and the werewolf was positively helpless to his protective instincts.

"Professor."

"Hello Draco. Am I interrupting something?"

Remus looked over his shoulder to where Hermione and Ginny were sitting. Draco looked back too. Ginny had a slight wariness about her, and Draco understood her reluctance to let too many people know they were looking into her brother's death. But Remus was not the biggest advocate of the Ministry's secrets and control. If he could help them, he would.

"No, just visiting. Come on in."

The latest guest was the one who provided tea. But it was Ginny that started the conversation going.

"I'm not asking for your help, and in fact, I don't want it. But if you try and stop me, I'll… I'll do something terrible. I'm doing this, and I'm doing this alone."

Draco smirked. She had started her conversation with him the exact same way. It made sense. If she were captured, she would have a vivid memory to cling to of refusing anyone's help, and of threatening them into secrecy. It would protect them if she were caught. It was very Slytherin, in a selfless Gryffindor sort of way.

He knew she had made an effort to further refine all of her memories to fit into this idea. Draco would, of course, help her anyway, though they wouldn't speak of it until they were in too deep for it to matter. But now, while they were still in the preliminaries of their investigation, they didn't speak aloud of what they were doing. They simply did it.

Neither Hermione nor Remus asked her just what it was she was planning on doing alone. They understood. Hermione's eyes began to shine. For a moment, Draco feared the widow would begin weeping, but she didn't. She merely looked to Ginny expectantly.

Ginny drew her wand, but it was clearly just for show. Just for the sake of her memory, which she would surely refine into something more threatening.

"Hermione, do you know what Ron was researching?"

"No," she said. "He never spoke of it. The only conjecture I could offer is that it was an extension of the research he was doing while we were still at Hogwarts. And he rarely spoke of that either."

Ginny nodded, but Hermione plunged on. It seemed to Draco that she needed to go over this. That she had only been waiting for someone to bring it to her to discuss.

"You know after Percy…" she faltered, "…died, Ron was so interested in the connection of our world to the afterlife. Dark creatures fascinated him, especially creatures centered on death magic. I don't know what exactly he had been doing with that vampire our seventh year. I'm not sure I believe that his experiments were solely focused on subverting their control over humans."

Ginny's eyebrows pressed together. "Yeah. I never did buy that. Did he… I don't know, did he ever say anything? Or did he do anything strange or unusual before he disappeared?"

Hermione was silent for a time. Then she nodded. "He went to the Burrow the day before he disappeared, looking for everything your dad had collected when they had the Tremor Moles."

"Funny," said Draco. "I was just thinking of that."

"Tremor Moles, huh." Ginny chewed on this.

Hermione looked at Ginny guiltily, and then looked away. "Ron talked about how weird it was, the way Harry reacted to them. Like… like what you told us had happened wasn't exactly… accurate."

Draco was amused. Hermione had accused Ginny of lying in perhaps the nicest way possible. But to be fair, Ginny had lied.

"What do you mean?" Remus' voice iced a tad and Draco took a moment to be pleased that Harry had bothered to tell him something he hadn't told his two best friends or his father figure. For once.

_And only once_, his subconscious snipped.

He was grumbling to himself and silence hung heavy in the air. When Ginny wasn't forthcoming with an explanation, Hermione prodded gently under the guise of answering Remus' question.

"Well," she began slowly, "When you think about it, Harry wasn't acting at the time like he was hearing thousands of voices and it was maddening him. He was acting more like…" she cleared her throat, "More like he was one of the snakes."

Remus looked at her, refusing to make the connection.

"Tremor Moles call snakes to them when it's almost time for their eggs to hatch. They call snakes to them for the hatchlings to feed on."

"And…?"

"And they control the snakes completely. It's not like the snakes would _want_ to slither straight to their deaths. But the hatchlings need to feed, and the nesting Moles can't very well go out and hunt them down, can they? So they use a sort of mental magic when they call, and it controls the snakes completely so that they can't _not_ slither straight to their deaths."

"And Harry heard the snakes as they came."

Hermione finally looked Ginny in the eye as she answered him. "No," she said, "Harry was called as well. Wasn't he, Ginny? The Tremor Moles were controlling him somehow."

Remus shot her a look. Ginny looked uncertainly to Draco, who shrugged. "I really don't think it's betrayal to tell these two," he said. "You know Harry should have told them years ago."

"Told us what?" said Remus.

Ginny sighed. "That Harry has snake magic in him. He has ever since the night he became The Boy Who Lived. Voldemort had been experimenting with magical snakes during his quest for immortality. He had kind of… fused his essence with that of one of the snake species. When the Killing Curse rebounded off of Harry that night, a lot of Voldemort's powers transferred into him, including the snake magic."

Remus carded his hands trough his hair. "You're telling me that Harry is, magically speaking, part snake?"

Ginny shrugged. "He didn't want anyone to know."

"Oh!" Hermione nearly screamed with a realization. Draco jumped at her outburst. "That's why he could possess the Dementor! Gods, I've been trying to figure that out for _years_!"

"Congratulations," said Draco wryly.

"But don't you _see_? Harry can do what no one else in the wizarding world can! He can do mental magic on animal species! And it's completely impossible."

"Yes, I know," said Draco with a bored tone. "I've had this conversation with him already. Whole field of study on why it's impossible, and yet he can do it, and isn't he so tortured in his difference from the rest of wizardkind? Blah, blah, blah."

Ginny elbowed him sharply. "Don't be an arse. That's my twin you're mocking."

"Anyway, he _is_ different," added Hermione.

"And he _was_ a victim to it, if the Tremor Moles were able to control him," said Remus.

"Merlin," said Hermione, "If there had been nesting Tremor Moles near the battlefield…"

"Or if Harry had ceded to reason and never _possessed a bloody Dementor_." Ginny glared at him, but Draco didn't really care. He was irritable talking about the great Harry Potter and his battlefield heroics.

"What does this have to do with Ron?" he said, changing the subject back to its original topic. "Why was he looking for info on the Tremor Moles? What connection does it have to his research on death magic?"

Ginny chewed on her lip. "I don't know."

XIXIX

Ginny and Draco had to get back to the training camp, but Remus stayed on for awhile. Hermione was grateful. He'd kept an eye on her these past weeks, encouraging her to eat, sitting with her when she couldn't sleep, and generally making sure she was never _too_ alone. Hermione could recognize his effort as a good thing. She knew she was in a dangerous place. She'd been numb all over for what seemed an eternity. There was nothing but the persistent and deadening ache of loss.

Until now. For the first time since the night Ron hadn't come home, Hermione's brain was alive with questions. It wasn't hope, exactly, that she felt. It was more like determination. She could feel Ginny's resolve seeping into her. Her lethargy was replaced with curiosity. And Hermione's curiosity was unrelentingly powerful.

She knew the laws, and she had recognized Ginny's attempt to tip-toe around them. She would have to be as careful. Probably moreso, since she was not the twin of Harry Potter. But if it took her lifetime, she would solve this one.

"Tremor Moles don't have anything to do with death magic." Remus spoke suddenly, but his tone supposed there had been no break in conversation.

"Nor with Dark creatures, really," agreed Hermione.

"You foresaw it."

Hermione looked over. "What?"

"The Tremor Moles. Remember you wrote me that day, said you thought there was something wrong with Harry. You knew what was coming."

Hermione blushed scarlet, both embarrassed and ashamed. "No I didn't," she said. "I saw something, but I didn't know what. I can't ever seem to control it properly."

Remus shifted in his seat so he could look at her better. "Why do you always diminish your abilities? It's incredible what you can do, what you have done. All your work with the war. Harry wouldn't have made it through the Final Battle without you."

Hermione almost threw up, remembering exactly how much she _didn't_ help the day of the Final Battle. She was a fraud. Except she wasn't. Her powers were real. She was just no good with them. She never did seem to predict anything useful in any precise and accurate way.

Except…

She looked a Remus, and looked away. She had predicted Remus. A nice, precise and accurate prophecy. She had known, suddenly and perfectly, that 'tomorrow, the one she would be with until the day she died would come to her.' And Luna had come, but of course, she had come because Hermione had told her about the prophecy. So as much as she may have wanted to believe the prophecy had referred to Luna, she knew it had not.

Ron didn't show up that day. But Remus did. And true, he had appeared because Harry had disappeared, and not to cart Hermione away in some storm of love, but… she had had a precise prophecy. The only thing it lacked was accuracy. Because she had chosen to marry Ron instead.

Her heart tumbling inside of her, it occurred to Hermione for the first time that perhaps _she_ had killed her husband. If she had been destined to be with Remus, and had tried to subvert destiny by choosing Ron, well, maybe destiny had fought back in a decidedly final way. Maybe Ron was dead because Hermione had married him and not the person she was supposed to be with.

The paradox of prophecy slammed through her like a hurricane. Hermione looked up to Remus, feeling a torrent of energy crackle through her. It was the same old problem, but worse. Fatal. Again. Hermione failed to control—to yield to—her powers and people died. She hadn't stopped the Final Battle. And now her husband had died. It was her fault. She had killed her husband.

Remus shifted in his seat, looking discomfited as he watched this horrific realization dawn. "Hermione," he said calmly, studying her, "Are you okay?"

"Get out."

Her voice was low. Quiet. Terrible.

"What…?"

"I said get out."

Every inch of her body was alive with the terrible truth of her life. Every second she had lived came together, leading up to this one moment in which she realized what exactly it meant to be a Seer. And she understood why it was that Sybil Trelawney's mother had gone crazy with this power. And she knew with awful certainty that she would follow her down that path if Remus Lupin didn't get the fuck out of her quarters immediately.

"Get out, _get out, Get Out!_" she screamed. She was on her feet, unaware of her motions. The vase by the door exploded. She pulled her wand on Remus, who was staring at her in alarmed bewilderment.

"Get. Out."

He held her eye for a moment, fearful and confused and not just a little bit pained. But then he nodded and said softly, "Okay." He walked to the door, opened it, and passed through.

Hermione cast a silencing charm and screamed, willing the thoughts—this knowledge—to leave her head. But they wouldn't go, and they wouldn't be silenced.

"Oh god, oh god," she wailed. "It's all my fault."

Outside in the hallway, Remus stood with his ear to the door. Her silencing charm was good, but his wolf's ears were better. He listened as she screamed, as she cried, and then as she fell silent. And only when he was content that she was sleeping, and not harming herself, did he return to his quarters and drink.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: So, back from my vacation. And now it's time to move. I should have internet access shortly after we arrive, so I should be able to resume regular updates in the near future. For more info on my real life, check out my blog (addy posted in my profile). I post more regularly when exciting things are happening, such as, I imagine, my life starting next week. By the way, any of you live in Hawaii:)

All my love,

tangledhair

P.S. Book Five is my favorite. Movie Five also. Book Seven out TOMORROW!!! I'm about to have a heart attack.


	26. Graduation

**_A/N: IMPORTANT!!!_**

_I'm so sorry, everyone. I was going back over my older chapters and I realized that during the upload process, half of Chapter 22, "The Past Behind You" was cut off. And I know that I checked the preview before I submitted it, so that means it got lost after it had been uploaded into when I was actually adding it into my story. I'm so sorry I didn't go back and check. Now it's chapters later and I've been writing under the misconception that you already had certain information that you didn't have. :(_

_So I've re-uploading Chapter 22. It's all there now. The plot elements you've missed have been or will be explained as everything comes together, so if you really don't want to go back, I guess you can still keep reading and it'll be fine. But… especially if you're a reader who wants to figure it all out, I really want to encourage you to go back and read the second half of that chapter. It's got major clues in it._

_I'm so sorry for this inconvenience. I'll be sure to check and recheck such things in the future._

_Peace,_

_tangledhair_

X

XIX

XIXIX "Graduation" XIXIX

The months passed and Auror training was coming to a close. Ginny and Draco were partnered together almost exclusively during their training exercises. They were at the top of their class, but in a lot of ways, still the outcast renegades. For the most part, their classmates distanced themselves from the duo. They were good, true. But given their pasts, given their power, and given their status within the Ministry, they were dangerous.

It therefore was not a complete surprise when, with two days left to commencement, they were the only two who had not been offered positions with any of the Auror teams.

"Even those creeps Bryde and Smarte have been placed," grumbled Ginny. "And they're both idiots."

"Yeah," said Draco, glancing around the mess hall. "I can't believe any Auror team would want them more than us. They're going to kill someone someday. Mark my words."

"Consider them marked."

"Well, Grungle says everyone who passes gets placed somewhere. But I really don't fancy scrubbing bird droppings off the floor of the Auror Owlery."

Ginny shook her head. "We're not graduating top of our class so we can be put in some menial job. I intend to do something with my life."

Draco smirked. "We could go be 'Heroes for Hire' with Harry."

Ginny grinned. "If we don't get placed somewhere good, I might just take you up on that." She kept eating, but noticed Draco's body position change. It was kind of endearing, the way he tried to be so nonchalant about it. But she could easily tell what was coming.

"So…" he began with poorly feigned casualness. "How is he anyway?"

"He's okay. I think he's lonely, but," her eyes darkened slightly, "He's not coming home. He's determined to stay away. He just won't tell me why."

Draco put his hand on Ginny's shoulder and squeezed it tightly. His blue eyes pierced her brown ones and he told her, "He loves you, Ginny."

She nodded, held his eye. 'He loves you, too,' she thought. But it seemed kinder not to say it out loud.

There was a commotion outside the main door. People were starting to look over. Sergeant Grungle was standing there, his huge frame hulking in the doorway. He was clearly arguing with someone just out of sight, and was raising his voice.

"You want her? You'll take him too."

"Grungle," came a deep voice, clearly exasperated, "I thought we made this perfectly clear. It's _Potter_ that we worked with during the war, and it's only his _twin_ that we're willing to hire."

Ginny frowned and looked over to Draco. She knew that voice, but the sentiment didn't match it.

Grungle shifted his stance. "They've been partnered since they've been here. They work well together and they're both at the top of the class. I'm telling you, you'd have to be a fool to split them up. And I am no fool."

"But he's the son of Death Eaters," argued the male voice.

Draco glowered. "That _is_ Kingsley, right?" he hissed. "Why the fuck is he acting like…" Ginny nudged him sharply so she could hear.

It was a female voice this time. "He _was_ fighting with Potter in the end," she conceded.

"He was also…" Kingsley began, but Tonks cut him off.

"Look, we owe it to Potter to take his twin. If she's a package deal with the Malfoy, then… we'll just have to take him too."

This proclamation was met with silence. People were looking over to where Ginny and Draco sat stone-faced. Bryde and Smarte were laughing openly. Finally, Kingsley assented. Grungle turned and stuck his head into the mess hall.

"Red! Malfoy!"

Ginny and Draco followed Grungle, Kingsley, and Tonks to the Sergeant's office. Once inside he closed the door, drew the shades, and cast a silencing charm on the room. Ginny and Draco stood at attention just inside the door. Tonks looked over apologetically.

"Sorry about the show," she said quickly.

"The only way we could hire you is to act like we were doing so only grudgingly," added Kingsley.

"We've been arranging it with Grungle since your first week. If anyone else offered you a place, he'd just make sure that ours got to your first. Otherwise, we'd wait until the end and act like it was only out of a sense of obligation that we stepped forward."

"So we really are blacklisted, then," said Ginny.

"You are," agreed Kingsley. "The Minister doesn't want you," he nodded to Ginny, "To have any position of power, given the strength of your popularity and influence when you were still in Hogwarts. And the way the Ministry is over-exaggerating the remaining Death Eater threat… Draco, I'm afraid you're simply a victim to the fear mongering."

Tonks nodded. "People are easier to control when they're afraid. Fudge learned that during the war. So he keeps coming up with new and ever-scarier threats to keep his power firmly in place."

"It is unfortunate," said Grungle, moving to sit behind his desk, "But true. I've taken a lot of slack over the past few months for recognizing your talents and skills. But, we've been able to use that to our advantage here. I think the right people overheard our exchange just now. So now we have made it appear that Tonks and Shacklebot are hiring Red out of duty to Potter, and Malfoy because I forced them into it. No one will blame the team for that, and you shouldn't be met with any more suspicion because of it."

"And once you're in, you're in," said Tonks. "You won't rise through the ranks quickly, but you'll be in the field, and… off the field, too," she added conspiratorially.

"We've got a few investigations on the side," explained Kingsley. "Certain members of the Order are still at work."

"And Grungle's with us, if you hadn't already gathered that," added Tonks.

"Too many questionable events have happened with no official investigation," said Kingsley. "So we're investigating unofficially."

"Will you join us? Do you accept the position?"

Ginny and Draco looked at each other, but they already knew what the other's answer would be.

"Yeah," said Ginny. "Yeah we do."

Sergeant Grungle cleared his throat. "Weasley. Malfoy." They turned to him. "Commencement is in two days. It is customary for me to give a short speech praising the qualities of those who are best in class and congratulating the Auror team who gets them. But I'll not be doing that this term. So let me say now:

"Weasley, the sheer amount of power at your disposal is impressive, but all the more so because of the skill with which you wield it. You've got courage and charisma the likes of which one doesn't often see. When the time comes for you to lead, you will do it well, and you will do it for the betterment of wizardkind. Furthermore, let me just say that you handled your brother's death with great character. You never faltered in your training, and you never let your grief turn to anger against those who deserved it. The world would be a better place if there were more witches and wizards as good as you."

Ginny nodded her acknowledgement and thanks, her lips pressed tightly together in a flat line. She didn't trust herself to speak.

"And Malfoy. I remember a time when the name of Malfoy was synonymous with power, intelligence, and class. You embody all of these things. You are devilishly clever with your spellwork and deadly accurate with your wandwork. If you hadn't come over to our side in the war I would consider you one of our greatest threats. As it is, you conduct yourself with real class—and in the greatest sense of the word. You are dignified and respectful, regardless of the circumstances. Furthermore, you take it upon yourself to decide what is right and good, which shows a real strength of character on your part. I am honored to have been a part of your instruction. That goes for both of you. I look forward to working with you in the future."

Grungle stepped forward to shake their hands, as did Kingsley. But Tonks threw her arms around their shoulders, her hair turning a sunny yellow as she welcomed them into the team.

XIXIX

The next day was one of the most tiring days in the Auror training camp—not because it was the most difficult, but because the activity was constant and lasted many long hours. Their morning training regimen began even earlier than normal and lasted twice as long as usual. The rest of the daylight hours were filled with tests during which they could prove their strength, training, and skill to the teams that would take them upon their graduation. These tests continued on past supper, and were then followed by a tediously boring Commencement rehearsal in which they went through the motions over and over and over until every movement of the ceremony was precisely choreographed.

Late in the evening, they stumbled back to the barracks. The day before, several members of their class had talked about sneaking out for a wild celebration. But no one seemed up for it now. Draco suspected their trainers had planned it that way. Certainly they weren't the first class that had thought about sneaking off to get pissed the night before graduation.

When they reached their bunk, Draco noticed that he and Ginny had matching bright orange envelopes waiting for them on their pillows. Ginny climbed onto her mattress and picked hers up. Draco fell onto the other side of her mattress and _accioed_ his.

"Hey, shove over," said Ginny irritably, nudging him with her shoulder.

"You," he said, shoving back.

Ginny ripped her envelope open and pulled out a parchment. "Oh, gods," she laughed. "Took them long enough."

Draco opened his and read,

"_You are cordially invited to the most hallowed nuptial ceremonies of Luna Xenophilia Lovegood and Vincent Bartemeo Francis Crabbe underneath the November New Moon…_ They don't even give the date. Do you have a lunar calendar?"

"At least it's based on the lunar calendar, and not the migrating patterns of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something."

Draco chuckled. "You know what's really funny is that I've become utterly convinced that _Loony_ Lovegood brought a measure of sanity into Crabbe's life."

"Yeah," Ginny sighed. "Luna has an odd way of doing that. She was good for Hermione the summer after the war."

Draco turned to his partner, nonplussed. "You knew about that?"

"Well, not at the time." And he noted she didn't seem particularly upset that the woman who would be her sister-in-law had cheated on her brother.

"Grungle was right about you," he said.

Ginny started to smile at the compliment, but then pulled her face straight. It occurred to Draco he had embarrassed her by agreeing with their sergeant. As incredibly powerful and charismatic as she was, she still got flustered when someone pointed it out to her. She would never be one to develop a cult of personality. She would not grow big-headed and feel like she deserved the respect she garnered. And she would certainly never be the hero that ran away from her followers.

_Like Harry._

Lying there, exhausted, and realizing the truth of his partner, Draco decided he had done well aligning himself with her. And furthermore, he trusted her the way he had only ever trusted Harry. He had followed his family out of duty, out of fear, out of love, out of obligation, but never out of a sense of what was right. Ultimately, he could not trust them to the end, to the outcome of their decisions. And ultimately with Harry, well, Harry had run out on him. Again and again. Draco sensed Ginny would never do this. He would follow her with his life. And she would stay with him through it, would never let him down.

Draco thought of his recent trip to Azkaban, and the responsibility that rested on his shoulders to regain his fortune and revive the Malfoy name. '_And what the hell,_' he thought, '_We do make a great team._'

"Ginny, I think we should get married," he said.

Ginny shifted on the bunk so she could look at him properly. "Draco, I think you have time still to find a proper wife. Just because I'm the only pureblood at the camp who'll talk to you…"

He could feel her teasing tone. It didn't deter him. "You heard Grungle," he said. "We're a formidable partnership. Why not in marriage as well as in the Aurors?"

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Wait, you're serious," she stated, as though informing him of the truth behind his words.

"We can trust each other, " he explained, "So we won't have to worry about the more dangerous pitfalls of family politics."

"Oh Draco," she sighed, laying her head back on her pillow, "I think you and I have a very different idea of what it means to be married."

"But it could work for both of our ideas of marriage," he said. "Good partnership for me, and what? Love for you? We love each other, more or less. There's kind of a _romantic tension_ between us, don't you think?"

And now Ginny laughed. "Yeah, it's called Harry Potter."

Draco scowled. Ginny looked at him kindly.

"You know we use each other to feel close to him," she said. "It's folly to think that any _romantic tension_ between us is anything more than that."

The blonde sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face. Fuck Harry Potter. Why did it always come back to him?

"And you know I'm with Lokstavian again," Ginny continued.

Draco scoffed, but didn't yet open his eyes. "Don't give me that. You can't tell me he'd be better for you than me."

Ginny huffed. "And I'd be _so good_ for you? Draco, I wouldn't be a wife that would turn my back on your infidelities. And I certainly wouldn't let you run around cheating with my twin."

Draco thought of his parents, thought of his mom. She set the entire background scene for every public move his father made. They were a perfect team in that way. Ginny would never set the background scene for Draco, and nor would he want her to. But he wouldn't set the background for her either. She was right. Theirs was a different sort of partnership.

"And it would be weird," Ginny continued after a short silence. "And how would I ever explain to Harry anyway? And…"

"Never mind," he said. "It was a stupid thought."

He pulled himself off of the mattress to climb into the top bunk, but Ginny grabbed his arm. Draco turned back to her. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't the sincerity he saw in her eyes.

She told him, "It's not a stupid thought. You just proposed the wrong thing."

He raised an eyebrow in question. She let go his arm; held out her hand to him.

"I'll be your partner," she said. "We do make a good team."

Draco sat back down on the edge of the mattress and took the proffered hand. They clutched each other's hand tightly, and Draco could feel some sort of pact forming… some sort of bond. They were in this together, wherever this life might take them. Now it was official.

Ginny grinned, then punched him in the shoulder.

"Go to bed. I want my partner to look pretty at our graduation."

Draco feigned offense. "Like I could ever _not_ look pretty."

XIXIX

Harry lay in bed staring at the ceiling. It was a boring day and Harry took the time to enjoy that fact. He was not off somewhere playing gallivanting hero. He was not off somewhere, living the unconscious life in-between life—those long gaps he didn't remember and couldn't control. He was here, in his home. There were people in the next room, and though he would not go out and sit with them, speak with them, befriend them, their very presence made him feel less alone.

There was nervousness in the pit of his stomach. Ginny's graduation from Auror training was tomorrow, and she expected him to be there. She had specifically asked him to come, which showed how important it was to her. She had long since stopped asking him to come home for anything. He had told her he would try, had sensed her hurt that he would not give a definite answer, and he had been praying for weeks that he would wake up on the morning of her graduation with control over his own free will.

He gave his ceiling a wry grin. He had gotten so good at tricking his thoughts away from the forbidden ones, the ones that brought headaches (and even here, he thought of a different sort of headache than the ones he really meant, since the pain that came was a forbidden thought as well). It was something to be proud of. It was… sick, that he had to go through this all the time.

"This is no way to live," he said to the ceiling.

"But it's what I have," he answered to the ceiling.

Harry really wanted to go the graduation. He wanted to pretend for a day that he was a normal twin who could just do that sort of thing. But he feared going back. He feared seeing Ginny, getting her hopes up he would be back to normal, would come home. And worse, he feared the anger and hurt he knew would come when he dashed those hopes. Again.

_'Draco will be there_,' he thought, and his stomach flip-flopped.

"I don't love Draco anymore," he told the ceiling, and for a moment, he thought the ceiling might even believe him. But it didn't really.

Harry shook his head. If Severus knew he had personified his ceiling just so he could talk to someone, he would tell Harry he'd had a psychotic break. This made Harry laugh. Then he clutched at his chest, trying to soothe the ache in his heart. He missed Severus so much. And Ginny. The absence of his bondmates in his life pained him greatly, even after all this time. Even though he knew it was for the best. Even though he did it on purpose.

He heard a giggling from the other room and smiled. Mala was happy. She'd been very happy these past months, since Harry had moved in and erased her financial woes. She'd been even happier when Ryan the bartender had finally gotten around to asking her out. He was at the house a lot nowadays. And Mala must have explained pretty well the impersonal relationship she had with Harry, because while Ryan was always very cordial when he saw Harry, he was also very careful not to direct the conversation into more personal realms.

All told, Harry enjoyed the presence of love in his house. He could pretend sometimes like he was a part of it, without the disastrous consequences that came whenever he was actually near to his loved ones. And it was nice to hear Mala and Ryan laughing, to know that life was still good for others, if not for him. It helped keep Harry grounded, helped him remember that there was something good in this world, that happy lives existed outside his own personal exile, that there was a reason that he had bothered to kill Voldemort, and then continue to live.

And it would be good to see Ginny tomorrow, no matter how terrified he was by the prospect of it. He only hoped he would make it there.

In the other room he heard the rushing sound of a firecall. Mala let out a soft squeal of surprise, but then laughed. Harry imagined the firecaller had poked their head into an intimate scene. He could hear Mala and Ryan talking to the firecaller, and a jostling as they got up off the couch. Presently, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Harry?" Mala's gentle voice called to him. "Are you in there?"

"Yeah, come in," he said, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

Mala opened the door and looked in. "There's a woman on firecall for you." She gave Harry a weird smile before continuing, "It kind of seems like she has the wrong fireplace, except she asked for you by name."

"I'll check it out," he said. He walked into the living room, where Ryan was sitting on the couch, talking to the firecaller.

"I don't understand," he was saying, "You mean they nest in the cushions?"

"No, no," said a dreamy voice, "The cushions sprout them if you don't sit on them often enough. I think the couches get lonely if you don't use them, so they make the plush bunnies."

"But how can life spring from nothing?" asked Ryan, perplexed. Harry came around the couch in time to see Luna rolling her eyes.

"Not from nothing," she said. "From the cushions. Oh, hullo Harry. What are you doing here?"

Harry smiled as he sat down on the couch next to Ryan. "You called _me_, Luna. Did you think I'd be somewhere else?"

"Sometimes you're somewhere else," she said. "But I'm not really sure why. It seems like you'd want to keep all your pieces in one place."

Ryan looked over to Harry, obviously perplexed and clearly expecting to find that Harry wasn't following the conversation either. But Harry was stung by her words. Of course he'd want to keep all his pieces – himself and his bondmates – in one place. She just didn't understand. Harry looked down darkly.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked him. But Mala Suerte jumped in to the rescue, quickly latching onto Ryan's arm and pulling him into the kitchen.

"I was just being nice," he hissed as they left the room.

"I know," she whispered back, "But he's Harry Potter. He needs us to be nice in a different way."

Luna cocked her head in the fire, looking after them. "There are many ways of being nice," she agreed. "I have good news."

Harry met her eye and Luna smiled brilliantly up at him.

"I'm getting married in two weeks," she said. "To Vince," she clarified then, as though that had been in question. "I want you to come."

"I… I'll try, Luna. But it's complicated. Things come up sometimes and it hard to get away."

She nodded, suddenly solemn. "That's why I'm not asking you to be my maid of honor," she informed him, but gently. "I wanted to make sure it was someone I _knew_ would be at the wedding. But I still want you to be there if you can make it."

Harry flushed. "Oh, well, er…"

"Are you going to be at Ginny's graduation tomorrow? It's should be such fun!"

"I'll… erm… maybe. Nothing's come up yet," he offered hopefully.

"Then we'll see you tomorrow. I'll send an owl, too, with a proper invitation to the wedding. I wanted to make sure you'd be here to get it."

She looked around the room as though realizing suddenly she was in the wrong place, and then she was gone. Harry looked up with a sudden suspicion. He crossed to the kitchen and as he went through, he noticed that Mala and Ryan were both taking up hurriedly casual positions at the far end of the room. He narrowed his eyes at Mala, but not unkindly.

She laughed. "I'm sorry," she said. "We were curious. She just seemed almost… unreal."

Ryan laughed too. "Yeah, sorry mate," he said. "But that girl is loony. I just wanted to see what else she might say."

Ryan and Mala cut looks at each other, and then exploded with laughter. Harry felt suddenly that he was entirely out of the loop. He spoke to these two often enough, but he didn't really know them. He had no idea what was going on in this exchange—a fact that made Harry feel all the lonelier.

Mala gasped to compose herself. "We were…" she blushed, "We were kind of making out when she firecalled, and she…" Mala laughed again.

"Her first words to us were, 'oh, you two are being very thorough.'" And Ryan did a passable impression of Luna Lovegood. Harry brought his hands to his face as he imagined the situation. It _was_ pretty funny.

"She thought we were trying to squash plush bunnies…?" continued Mala, like she was asking Harry if that really could have happened.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Luna… Luna's like that."

"Her name's _Luna_?" gasped Ryan. "That's too perfect… Loony Luna."

Harry cut him a look, but before he could defend his friend, they heard the floo rush in the next room. In the next moment, a voice was calling out, "Harry? Is Harry here?"

Mala moved immediately to run interference, and in the moment Harry was struck again by how lucky he was to have run into Mala Suerte that day at the pub. They hardly knew each other, but she had taken her duty to care for him very much to heart. She hadn't even looked to Harry for instruction on this intruder. She simply ran into the living room.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked loudly. Her voice was forceful, and Harry realized it was meant to keep the unknown person from feeling welcome to look around the house for its other inhabitant.

But Harry knew who it was. He'd already come through behind Mala.

"It's okay," he told her. "Hi, Hermione. How… are you okay?"

Hermione looked up at him, blinking owlishly. She seemed to have lost a good deal of weight, so that her robes hung on her and her eyes looked bigger in her face than they ever had before. Her hair was bigger and bushier than ever. She looked rather frazzled and kind of reminded Harry of… Trelawney.

She held up a bright orange parchment. "Luna's getting married," she yelped.

"Yeah, she was just…"

Hermione navigated the furniture of the room, moving toward Harry. She walked with a strange gait, her robes flowing about her. She seemed to be carrying the entire past and future of the world with her as she moved. Something had changed in her since Ron had died, and Harry's heart ached for her, ached for them both. He wished again he could overcome all of this and go to her, go back home. But as much as he wanted to, he found he simply could not.

Hermione didn't have the same problem. She flung herself at him, snaking her arms around his waist so that his arms naturally fell around her shoulders. He held her tight.

"You're going to be there," she said. "Please come with me. Stay with me. I don't know how I'm… Harry, I'm scared."

He petted at her mass of hair. "It's okay," he said. He noticed that Mala grabbed Ryan's arm tightly and pulled him out of the room, and this time he was positive they would not be listening in.

"I'm so afraid I'm going to have a fit or something. And I love Luna; I have to be there. I don't want to ruin everything. Please come with me."

God, if only he could make such promises.

"Hermione, I'm not sure…"

"The last wedding I went to was mine." She shuddered in his arms; Harry held her tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut, guilt flooding through him that he had missed their wedding. And now Ron was gone.

"You'll be there," she told him again. "Come with me."

Harry looked down into her eyes and saw there was truth there. She _knew_. She must have Seen something about the wedding. An instinct hit him and he wondered why exactly she was so afraid. He couldn't say why exactly, but her certainty that he would be there was suddenly matched by his certainty that something very bad was going to happen on Luna's wedding day.

"I'll come with you," he said protectively.

She nodded at him, her large eyes filled with something, Seeing something other than Harry.

"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked.

"I…"

"I'm going to sleep in your bed with you," she said, her eyes still faraway. "And you'll still be here in the morning. Then we'll go to the graduation together. Ginny will be pleased you made it."

Her eyes refocused on him. Harry wondered how much she knew. He was suddenly reminded of the Valentine's Day he'd spent in Severus' quarters, keeping contact at all times so he wouldn't disappear. Did Hermione know he'd disappear tonight if she left him alone? Was this an assurance that he wouldn't miss his twin's graduation?

_Again_.

Harry was almost overcome with an emotion like gratitude, except this one pained him as well.

"Okay."

XIXIX

He took Hermione out to dinner, rather than having dinner with Mala and Ryan. Mala had offered to cook, but Harry didn't want to bring his personal life into his home. Mala seemed to understand. Hermione seemed not to.

She hardly left his side that evening, and after preparing for dinner she simply crawled into bed with him and curled around him. Harry had looked at her, somewhat shocked by the behavior, but Hermione shrugged it off.

"So I'm touching you while we sleep," she explained. Again, Harry was reminded of that night with Severus. What did Hermione know? Did she think that if they weren't touching she would wind up alone in bed the next morning? And was that truth? Would he be gone if she didn't keep track of him?

Her eyes looked slightly unfocused and Harry could smell something on her breath… something earthy. Like she'd been eating tree bark while she had been in the bathroom. Her pupils were so huge the color of her eyes seemed to disappear. She stared into his eyes with a disconcerting intentness. Harry was compelled to ask her if she was high.

Instead, he said, "Nox."

XIXIX

The next morning, Hermione was much back to her usual self. She no longer moved as though carrying her visions as tangible items. And her eyes were no longer far away. She looked at Harry with her normal quick intelligence. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"How are you doing?" he asked. She looked at him and understood the extent of the question. Ron's loss hovered in the room.

"Okay," she said, but then admitted, "Some days are better than others."

He nodded, prodded, "Yesterday you seemed…"

But he cut off. Her eyes flashed anger and Hermione snapped, "I'm perfectly all right, _thank you!_"

With her body language she closed herself off to him, turning away. A moment later, she stalked out of the room. Harry again wondered if she had been high last night. He thought her defensive behavior now might confirm it. And Harry had absolutely no idea what to do. They weren't close like they used to be. He didn't know her anymore. They were not the same people they had once been.

He opted to say nothing more about it. They kept to neutral topics until it was time to go to the graduation. Mala stayed out of their way.

They apparated to the site of the graduation at the edge of the training grounds. From the outside, it appeared to be a small tent boasting a rip-off roadside attraction. "_Seven-Legged Lamb!_" proclaimed a poorly hand-painted sign above the entrance. But inside was a moderately sized stadium. It seemed all of the Aurors from the Ministry were in attendance, taking up one large section across from the entrance. Guests were filling in the rows on all other sides. Hermione looked around as they entered, and immediately caught sight of a group of people who were saving them seats.

The Commencement ceremonies were set to begin at 10:00. Harry was immediately grateful they had not come any sooner than the 9:55 they arrived. He had been so focused on the idea of seeing Ginny and Draco again that it hadn't occurred to him to think about all the people the two graduates had invited to celebrate with them. Harry thought his heart might explode when he saw the crowd that Hermione was leading him toward.

The entire Weasley clan was there—a much smaller group, Harry noted with a terrible pang. Ginny must have invited Remus, for he was there too. Neville had come, and as Harry looked around he saw about half of the remaining members of the D.A., and all of the previous members of SWAN. Luna and Crabbe were both there, most likely guests of both graduates. And of course, Draco's godfather was there.

Severus greeted Harry with guarded eyes, but Harry could feel the compulsion that radiated from him to pull Harry close to him. Indeed, with Ginny and Severus both so near, Harry almost lost control of his commitment to stay away. He wanted so desperately to fall in with them again.

Luckily for the overwhelmed Harry, the greetings were kept short. Music swelled from nowhere and the ceremonies began. As they shuffled to their seats, Harry noticed an unspoken play by his loved ones to gain the seats beside him. His heart thudded in his chest with love and regret. He still meant something to them, even after all of this. In the end, Severus wound up on one side of him, with Remus on the other. Hermione, he noticed, was on Remus' other side. He seemed to loom protectively over both of his young friends. Harry was caught by an image of a wolf protecting its pack. Hermione pretended to ignore him, but Harry saw that her cheeks were slightly flushed.

As the new Auror graduates processed in, Harry strained in his seat to see Ginny and Draco. His heart was still hammering wildly. It was too much—too many people still so willing to care for him after so much isolation. He'd been so far from Ginny. He hadn't seen her since Ron's funeral. And there she was, she and Draco. They were the last to file in. Their robes were a brilliant magenta where the others had been blue. They'd finished top of their class. Ginny hadn't mentioned that. Harry's chest swelled with happiness.

He turned to Severus with a proud grin. "They did it," he whispered.

Severus nodded but said nothing. As close as they sat to each other, they seemed an ocean away. Harry wanted to bridge the gap between them; he could tell Severus did too. But even if Harry _could_ go back, he realized he wouldn't even know where to begin. Too much time had passed. Too much had changed between them. Disconcerted, he looked back to the proceedings.

When Ginny and Draco were announced to be the heads of their class, Harry noticed the only real applause in the room came from their section. And the Sergeant who announced it—a big bear of a man—simply said, "Yeah. Good job."

Down the row, Harry could see Molly and Arthur bristling. "Good job? _Good job?_ Where's their speech? It's tradition!"

But the ceremony moved on without the tradition. The graduates were called by name to be awarded their certificates. As they crossed the staging area, their new team assignment was read and then met by thunderous applause. The Auror team they would be joining sent up sparks from their wands, calling out their welcomes enthusiastically.

But twice, when Draco and Ginny were called, they were met with only a smattering of applause except for the group that surrounded Harry. No sparks were sent up to welcome them to their new team. Harry didn't understand what was going on, but he was prickled with indignation. He wanted to be happy to hear that they'd be working with Tonks and Kingsley, but the reception they got… Something wasn't right.

He turned to Severus for answers, but Severus was too busy glaring at the section of Aurors to pay him any mind. Instead he turned to Remus.

"What's going on?" he hissed.

Remus shook his head. "It's complicated, Harry. Haven't you talked to Ginny about her training?"

And of course he had, just after Ron's funeral. She had said she and Draco were blacklisted. She had told him it seemed half the Ministry was under the Imperius Curse, that the Ministry had turned fascist. She said people who tried to stand up against them were silenced or disappeared.

But now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember exactly how that conversation had ended, or when exactly he had left the Burrow. It seemed Ginny had said something… something else… something about Ron?

Fire sliced through Harry's head and he let the thought go before it had even properly formed. Next thing he knew he was holding his head and Severus had his hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, are you alright?"

The question called to mind what was wrong and the pain flashed again. And while he was lost in it, he was unaware of snapping, "Leave me alone," at his bondmate.

Severus stiffened, pulled his hand back. This was, of course, how it had been for years now. He didn't know why he kept hoping for something different. For Harry's part, once he'd regained control of himself, he saw how Severus and Remus had both pulled away from him in their seats, and he knew it had happened again—whatever it was that happened. And this was exactly why he could never go back.

The reminder did not ease his heartache.

Applause erupted throughout the auditorium. The graduation had ended. The audience stood and began a mad press to get down to the floor where the new graduates waited for them. In the pandemonium that ensued, Harry thought it might be better if he simply snuck away. But as soon as he took a step in the opposite direction than the rest of the crowd, Severus grabbed his arm.

"You are going to congratulate your twin," he informed Harry, using a tone Harry didn't think he'd heard directed at him since his fifth year at Hogwarts. He nodded dumbly and followed. Severus did not let go of his arm. Harry remembered Hermione's words from the night before and hoped wildly that she had figured something out, that she had told everyone. Maybe they would ban together to keep him there. Maybe…

The fire sliced through his head and he let the thoughts go.

Severus let go of his arm only when they'd reached the crowd on the main floor that gathered around Ginny and Draco. Ginny flung her arms around Harry happily, and Harry noticed Draco eyeing him from a distance. He didn't approach.

"Are you coming to the Burrow?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"Er… I don't…"

"Of course he's coming!" said Molly, clapping him on the shoulder. "Everyone's coming. My girl graduated top of her class! Again!"

Harry turned to Ginny in surprise.

"I was salutatorian at Hogwarts," she explained briefly.

Before Harry could even begin to apologize for not knowing something so obvious and important about his twin, Ginny looked around and called out to no one in particular, "Hey, where's Lokstavian?"

Neville, who was standing very nearby, turned red. "He's not here," he said. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I looked all over for him."

Her face fell at the announcement, but she forced a smile back up. "Luna! Crabbe! Congratulations to you too!"

Luna had wandered over, cutting through the crowd in an almost accidental way. Crabbe lumbered along behind her, talking with Draco who only now came closer to Harry. He nodded, but still they did not speak to each other. Hermione appeared again at Harry's elbow. Remus stood directly behind her. He seemed to be buffering the crowd away from the Seer.

Luna smiled up at Ginny and stated, "A quiet celebration is sometimes the most sincerely meant. They applauded in their hearts."

Ginny grinned and hugged the girl.

When she let go, Luna turned directly to Hermione and then to Draco. "We wanted to ask you something."

Hermione pressed up against Harry. Her body shuddered. It seemed she wanted to hide behind him but couldn't bring herself to do it outright. Remus watched the proceedings over her shoulder.

"Hermione, will you be my maid of honor at our wedding?" The smile on Luna's face was absolutely brilliant. It was simply glowing with her happiness.

The Seer was drawn back out. She pulled back away from Harry and smiled. "Of course I will," she said.

"And Draco?" said Crabbe thickly. "Will you be my best man?"

Draco smiled broadly and bowed. "Absolutely, my friend."

They shook hands then, clapping each other on the back in a half-hug. Hermione and Luna embraced tightly. And Harry was struck by a thought. He turned to Remus.

"Remus, you were at Ron and Hermione's wedding, weren't you?"

Harry thought he saw the man's eyes darken briefly, but Remus nodded mildly.

"Who were the best man and the maid of honor?"

Remus blinked at him, startled by the question. "Oh," he said. "Luna was the maid of honor. But Ron didn't have a best man. His father stood up with him, but only for the formalities… holding the ring and what not."

Harry's heart sank into his stomach. He thought he knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway. "Why didn't Ron have a best man?"

Remus gave him a sympathetic look. He could tell Harry already knew why.

"He was keeping the place open for you."

Just then, there was a huge explosion overhead. Harry had his wand drawn before he realized it was the Weasley Wizard Wheezes dragon fireworks. They filled up the stadium with a brightly colored gaiety. People began cheering all over again. Before he knew what was happening, Fred and George had seized him by either arm and were dancing around happily, shouting cheers for their sister and Draco. The party moved to the Burrow and lasted long into the night. And Harry lost himself into it, pressing all other thoughts from his mind. He shoved away his grief, his regrets, forced himself into cheerful abandon.

For tonight, at least, he could come home. For tonight, at least, he could.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Hello all. Sorry 'bout that short absence. Been moving and setting up and, well, been off in that fantasy wonderland we like to call Real Life. But here's a little update for you.

Upcoming we'll have… well… the belly of this beast. We're drawing to a close, but I thought I might offer an extra bit of warning. I know this is an angsty story. It will become more so. Bad things are going to happen. But we got some fun teasers too. Harry and Draco meet again at Luna's wedding and this time they'll actually _interact_. And we'll be getting the answers as to just what exactly has been going on with our Harry in… oh, three-ish more chapters. And in the meantime, let's see if we can't get just a whole lot of hell to break loose, eh? Exciting times to come.

Thanks to my readers, and thanks slightly more to my reviewers! (hint, hint) By the way, I do respond to all signed reviews, so if you want an answer, just make sure you're logged in.

Peace,

tangledhair


	27. Love and Marriage

X

XIX

XIXIX "Love and Marriage" XIXIX

Hermione disappeared from the party for a time. It was halfway to dawn, but the celebrations were going strong. The Burrow was packed, spilling over into crisp night air in the garden. Hermione wrapped her shawl around herself tightly and slipped around the side of the house so she could be alone. Looking up at the precarious structure, she could see Ron's old bedroom. No light brightened the window.

She shied into further darkness, concealing herself underneath the branches of an old, gnarled tree. She pressed herself up against the tree trunk. The bark snagged at her shawl but she paid it no mind. The energy of the crowd had gotten to her. Her senses had come alive again. She was tingling with added awareness. She was itching to reach the other plane. She was burning for truth.

Opening a small pouch concealed in her robes, she gathered a two dried cactus crowns into her hand. She peered out into the darkness as she fingered her secret stash. There was no one to see her begin her little ritual. Hermione preferred it this way. No one understood what exactly she'd been going through since Ron died. They would worry about her if they knew how she was pushing her Sight with peyote. Even she was a bit disconcerted with the idea. The ever-together Hermione expanding her Sight to the limits of her consciousness and sanity. It was strange, but necessary.

Hermione had spent far too long fighting her Sight. So many terrible things had happened because she had refused to take the necessary steps to understand her visions and to abide by them. Adding her husband's death to the long list of tragedies had forced Hermione into desperate measures.

She needed truth.

Of course she had studied all about that shamans in North America. She knew of their ability to walk the path between in spirit journeys. And she needed to know—to know _everything_. After that first taste she felt sure she could gather the mystery of the future into her mind, gather the secrets of the present, gather the truth of the past. If the only sacrifice she made to this cause was the firm sense of her selfhood, so be it.

She embraced the tingling sense of power and energy and knowledge and truth that she felt flowing all around her, in and out of the people who danced and celebrated and _lived_. She breathed it in deeply. She pressed the buttons into her mouth. She closed her eyes. She felt the tree behind her. She opened up another eye.

Remus is watching, but not with his eyes. He stands around the corner. He listens. He smells. He knows.

_Harry loses himself in terrible joy, fingers entwined with his twin's. He laughs but he doesn't know why. He imitates the easy happiness around him. His heart swells with longing. With loneliness. With love. He loves so deeply. He is here but he is far away._

There are things he does not remember.

Hermione opened her eyes, seeing the world around her. She was aware that she was cold, but it was more like a remembered feeling. The sensation itself did not penetrate to the corner of her mind in which she was currently storing her feelings. Her consciousness swirled with a whirlwind of images.

_Ron. "I want you to marry me." The dead Vampire on the floor. The Shrieking Shack. "Say you will." _

_They were still talking, those other two. The dead Vampire on the floor._

_"I will. Of course I will."_

They say, His dead Vampire friend. He put humans over his idealistic dream of saving the Vampires. He killed the Vampire. We didn't even have to ask him to. Priorities. Are we agreed?

Remus was in front of her. No, she was in front of him. Where was she? They were inside the Burrow again. She stared at him and he repeated her name. Hermione turned to peer through the crowd. She sought out Harry.

_I am leaving. I can't tell you why, but I have to go. This isn't anyone's fault, so please don't blame yourself. _

_The letter. _

_Harry on the floor. He began to struggle, turning over and clawing at the floor. _

_The Tremor Moles. _

_They asked a few questions and that was it. It was actually a pretty easy time. They asked a few questions and that was it. It was actually a pretty easy time. They asked a few questions and that was it. It was actually a pretty easy time. _

_The inquiry at the Ministry. _

"Hermione."

She snapped out of it. Wavered. Was gone again.

"Where have you been?" Ron's last night at home. "I stopped by the Burrow on the way home from work."

A Dark magic book. An heirloom locket. An alarm breaks the silence. "Ginny, go!" They know too much. We must save them. Get Remus. Get Remus. Wake up.

This future is not yet upon us.

Her hand shot out and locked on to Remus' wrist. He startled, looking down at her. She nodded to him. "Yes," she answered. "I want you to take me home."

His mouth fell open a sliver. "I… I hadn't asked that yet."

She blinked at him. "But you were going to, weren't you?"

He nodded. She stepped into his space. He put his arm around her and turned. They landed just outside the wards at Durmstrang. Feeling suddenly exposed, Hermione stepped away from Remus and into the protection of the wards. Why? Why had she done that? Who was she hiding from?

Dangerous if the Muggles know.

Her parents' voices. We have to tell them. They have terrible powers that could destroy the world. Do you want to be the crazy person saying that magic exists? Hard proof.

Luna's wedding day. Insanity. Missing mirror, photo album, dancing tea set. "Hermione!" Luna in her wedding dress. "Luna, you shouldn't be here."

"…get you to bed." The Seer stared up at the man speaking to her.

_She could not let the Muggles find out._

"The Muggles must not know about us. Terrible things could happen."

Remus' eyes shone in the darkness, reflecting lights at the front door to the school. He narrowed his eyes and studied her critically. "What terrible things, Hermione?"

"I don't know." She shook her head. "I'm afraid."

And she realized she was shaking again. Remus wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She buried her face into his chest.

"Why are you taking that stuff, Hermione?" he whispered into her hair. His distress was obvious. It bothered him that her quest for truth was changing her so much.

She pulled her head back from his chest so she could see the tender look on his face. She made no move to free herself from his gentle embrace. "Remus," she said, snaking her hand up to trace the line of his brow.

_He pressed into her, his amazingly powerful arms holding her close to him. His mouth was on her neck. Her hands scrambled across his back, careful of the bandages. She was going to… Oh god!_

Hermione's knees gave out under the force of some future orgasm. She moaned at the feel of the body against her. Robes. Too many clothes between them.

Remus gathered her up in his arms and began walking toward the lighted front doors to Durmstang. "It'll be okay," he murmured, cradling her close. "You can sleep it off. Just rest."

XIXIX

Draco hit the streets of muggle London and was thankful for the brisk November air. He was dead tired and was going to need some serious caffeine if he was going to get his flat set back up today. He'd been out of his place for three months and it needed a lot of work. Charmed items needed to be reanimated, sheets and clothes needed to be freshened, dust needed to be vanished. He needed to restock his kitchen. But first and foremost, he needed espresso. And Ginny had found a muggle café near his place that had the best.

He was just about to enter the corner café when he saw the flash of a brilliant crimson cloak down the street. It was definitely a wizarding cloak, and this was definitely a muggle part of town. Curious, Draco followed it around the corner. The cloak had stopped about half a block away in front of a bakery. A tall, beautiful woman with chestnut brown hair was stooped over, studying the front display case. Only half a block away, Draco realized he knew the woman peering into the shop window.

He strode forward with a smile.

"Persephone!"

The woman in question stood upright with a start. She looked over to him, her face blank for only a second. "Draco Malfoy," she smiled. "Are you a sight for sore eyes!"

Persephone Hadens had been a Slytherin in the year ahead of Draco. They had never been close, exactly, but in Slytherin one made a point to know one's Housemates. Persephone's sole interest in life was to marry into a very wealthy family. She had gone to France shortly after she graduated and word was she had caught the eye of the dethroned Prince of Portugal. What the man may have lacked in political clout, he more than made up with royal wealth.

"It is good to see you," said Draco as he approached. They kissed lightly on the cheek. "I didn't realize you were in London."

"I only returned last week. I've been in Paris since I left Hogwarts, but my father's fallen ill."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is your husband here as well?"

A touch of color lit her cheek. After a pause, she nodded her head in a graceful tilt. "I am unmarried still."

"Oh, please excuse me. I thought you had married that prince."

"No, he… he was not a person I would want to align myself with for my entire life. Bit of a nasty temper, actually." Then, with a devious smile she leaned forward, put her hand to the side of her mouth and said in a stage whisper, "And a gambler. I doubt his fortune will last as long as he will."

Draco rolled his eyes, somewhat relieved she hadn't been offended by his faux pas. Same old Persephone.

"And how is Harry?" she asked sweetly.

Draco froze his smile onto his face. "He's fine. I hear he's fine."

Her eyes grew wider. "Oooh… I'm sorry, I hadn't heard. When did you split up?"

"Before we graduated, actually. About a year and a half ago, I suppose."

"Mm." Persephone nodded. "Did he ever become the Minister of Magic? I'm afraid I lost track of local politics while I was away."

"No, that hasn't worked out for him just yet."

"Pity. A stressful job like that would cause wrinkles and premature graying." She flashed another grin.

Draco looked at her with a critical eye. She wanted to marry wealthy, which he would become were he to marry. She would produce an heir. She would never hold an opposing political stance. She was certainly beautiful and had a very sweet charm and a sense of humor. She just might do.

"Persephone, would you like to get a coffee with me?"

XIXIX

The date of the wedding arrived before anyone knew it.

Indeed, Luna's and Crabbe's friends had taken to firecalling each other to ensure that everyone knew what the actual date was, seeing as how it wasn't on the invitation. Luna's friends had become especially vigilant in getting the word out, since Luna herself seemed only to know the date by the lunar calendar.

Hermione was dressed and ready by late afternoon. She firecalled Harry and told him to meet her at the Lovegood home at sunset. She was going to go by and see her parents. She hadn't gone to see them last time she was in the U.K. for Ginny and Draco's graduation. She hadn't been in a fit state to at the time with all the peyote she'd done during that week. But she was pretty sure she could talk to them today without scaring them out of their wits. She hadn't touched the stuff since Remus brought her home that night.

She was in constant battle with her Sight—always had been, in truth, since she had first learned of it. But the turmoil within her had increased exponentially since the night she realized she had as good as killed Ron when she agreed to marry him. One side of her wished she had never learned of her Sight, wished that her life, the war, and her marriage could have proceeded without all of the damning _what ifs_ that followed her around. That part of her wished she could throw her Sight away now, never think on it again and _Seer's responsibility be damned!_

The other side of her raged that she hadn't embraced her gift from the beginning. It weighed her down with guilt and the need to atone. She could have prevented the Final Battle. She had been so close at the time and she had simply looked away. She could have saved Ron.

She could have… what?

She could have _what_ Harry?

Figured out what happened to him? Was it too late? It had something to do with the Tremor Moles. And she felt certain that Ron had known that.

Other images, more imminent, lurked in the corners of her mind. She couldn't quite make the connection in her head. The fear of Muggle discovery; Luna in her wedding dress; Hermione screaming, something about items that had been missing from her quarters since Ron died… Hermione shivered, fearful of what the night may bring.

On peyote, the images never made sense. They would come to her but she had no control over them. Yet, left to her own devices, her mind was far too logical and structured to flesh out her visions into a coherent story. It was a no win situation. And inside, the battle raged on.

She apparated into her parents' backyard and slipped through the patio door into the kitchen. Sliding the glass door closed, Hermione heard a crack from somewhere nearby. She drew her wand. The sound had come from outdoors.

"_Retegere Hominum,_" she whispered. But nothing happened. Hermione stood at the door for some time longer, peering out into her backyard. Her anxieties about the day compounded into paranoia. She did not like this sinking feeling that was taking hold of her.

The kitchen door opened behind her. Hermione jumped, turning her wand on her very startled mother.

"Oh!" she squealed, dropping the book she was carrying.

Hermione fell back against the patio door, her hand over her heart. "Mum, you scared me!"

Edith laughed nervously. "I scared you?!" She was still eyeing Hermione warily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mum," she said, stowing her wand. "I thought I heard someone in the backyard, and I just got all frazzled."

Edith crossed to the door and looked out as well. "Is there someone there?"

"No. I checked with a… well, I used magic to check. There's no one there. I guess I'm just on edge today."

Hermione's mother clasped a hand onto her shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked, and Hermione understood what she meant.

"I do wish I had more time before I had to attend a wedding," she admitted. "But it's Luna. I couldn't miss it."

Edith brushed a stray strand from Hermione's forehead and smiled at her sadly. "You look lovely," she said.

They met each other's eyes and Hermione was sure there was something her mother wanted to tell her that she wasn't. In another lifetime, Hermione might have pushed a conversation. But in this lifetime, there were so many things unsaid between them.

"Thanks, Mum. Is Dad here?"

They passed the afternoon pleasantly enough, and they had an early dinner before Hermione left for the wedding. But the Seer never quite got past the feeling that both her parents were keeping something secret from her. And furthermore, she never quite got past the feeling that there was a witch or wizard somewhere nearby, watching.

XIXIX

Just after dusk, Harry apparated into Luna Lovegood's entirely overgrown backyard. Hundreds of people were milling about in complete darkness. The Lovegoods had apparently decided that lighting for the nighttime wedding was overrated.

Glancing around, he thought he saw a small white tent off to the side. He began to pick his way toward it, excusing himself to the other wedding guests as he bumped into them or slid around them. About halfway to the tent, Hermione tapped his shoulder and smiled nervously up at him.

Harry looked down at her and grinned. She looked like his 'Mione, the one he'd always known and not the drugged Seer he had spent the night with before Ginny and Draco's graduation a few weeks back. He pulled her into a hug as they whispered their hellos.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, appraising her pale yellow dress robes.

Before she could reply, something rubbed up against Harry's leg. He looked down and yelped. About three feet high, it looked like a cross between a hummingbird, a dinosaur, a skunk, and a rhinoceros. He started to draw his wand on the little monster, but Hermione stayed his hand.

"What _is_ that thing?"

"A Crumple-Horned Snorkack," she laughed. "Luna's dad has started raising them. They're quite tame, actually."

"_They exist_?"

"Oh yes," said a voice behind them. The two turned to see an old man in a fluorescent green costume robe. "You'd be surprised to find what can exist when people only believe."

"This is Luna's dad, Harry," said Hermione.

The man proffered his hand. "Darwin Lovegood. And of course you're Harry Potter. Luna's told me so much about you. Is it true you bonded to Severus Snape _even before_ you fell in love with him?"

He looked genuinely curious. Harry sputtered, not knowing what to make of the question. Hermione came to the rescue.

"Darwin, is it time?"

"Yes, I was just coming to get you. Harry, you can leave your cloak in the tent behind you. It'll be quite warm at the ceremony."

Darwin took Hermione's hand and led her through the crowd, jovially greeting everyone he passed. The Crumple-Horned Snorkack bounded along behind them. The crowd began to follow, migrating deeper into lush land that spread out behind the house. It was mid-November, but Harry shrugged and continued on to the tent where he deposited his cloak among the many racks that were shoved inside. And stepping back out into the dark night, Harry found that he was in fact quite warm.

He followed the crowd, but in the darkness it was hard to see where he was going. Eventually, he realized they were no longer moving forward, but finding seats. Chairs had been set up, all facing a single direction, but Harry couldn't tell what they were supposed to see. It was the night of the new moon, and the stars were not enough to light the scene.

"Psst! Harry!"

Harry looked over and could just make out Ginny, who was waving at him frantically. He cut across to where she, Remus, and Loky were saving him a seat. Ginny grinned at him and slipped her arm around his shoulder as he sat.

"Isn't this fun?" she giggled.

"Right," grumbled Loky. "It's so much fun to sit here in the dark. We're not going to be able to see a thing."

She elbowed him irritably, but turned back to Harry. "It's Luna," she said with a smile, and Harry knew what she meant. Anything could happen at this wedding and neither of them would be disappointed. With Luna, one had to understand that anything could happen, and it would all be just fine.

A light note sounded in the air, followed by another and another and another. Between the two sides of guest seats, a single fairy floated down the aisle. It was immediately followed by another, and then another and another and another. Suddenly, hundreds of fairies swarmed the location. Each was singing and carrying a small sphere glowing in soft light. They alit at various places along the aisle, around the audience, and most importantly, around the ornate altar they could now see before them.

There was a shuffling sound at the aisle. Harry craned his neck to see the Crumple-Horned Snorkack processing by him… her?… self. A ring shone from the tip of its horn, and it used tiny hands at the ends of its wings to drop flower petals on the ground as it walked.

Next, Hermione entered on the arm of Draco Malfoy. Both were smiling proudly as they walked down the aisle and took their places at the altar, standing as Best Man and Maid of Honor. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of the blonde, who he noticed was watching someone who sat on the groom's side. Harry looked over and saw a stunningly beautiful witch wave her fingers at Draco. Draco smiled broadly, nodding to her from his station. Harry noted with a sick feeling in his gut that Draco looked very happy.

Far happier, in fact, than he'd ever been with Harry.

Granted, there had always been extenuating circumstances, all the way back to the very beginning of their relationship. Still, Harry's heart clenched at the thought of it.

The singing of the fairies swelled and Harry turned back to see Crabbe entering with… Harry's heart skipped a beat. At first he thought it was Crabbe, Sr., but after a moment, he realized that the person next to him was very slightly effeminate-looking. And she was wearing a dress. Crabbe's mother looked exactly like her son, just older and with make-up. Seating his mother in the front row, Crabbe took his position at the front and turned to watch his bride.

Darwin appeared first, his fluorescent green robes shining. Then from behind him, stepped Luna. She took her father's arm and smiled around at all the guests. Her dress looked like she had wrapped a live giant jellyfish around herself. The material floated in ethereal wisps all about her in a multicolored luminescent flow. It seemed to carry her down the aisle, as though with angel wings. Harry was transfixed. It was a spectacular sight. Absolutely stunning.

From Ginny's other side, Loky hissed, "And that dress is exactly the reason I think we should elope."

Ginny cut him a look and elbowed him again. This time, though, Harry thought she hadn't pulled her punches. Loky doubled over with an _oof_.

XIXIX

The ceremony itself was pretty standard, if you don't take into account the glowing wedding dress, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack ring-bearer, or the fact that their vows included the wording, "Til death do us part, but in the case of undeath due to vampirism, zombie bites or imbibing water from the Fountain of Youth, we shall remain together for all eternity."

The reception was also outside, and the warming charm that kept the area so comfortable lasted on. The food that Harry sampled was delicious, even if he was not able to identify any of it exactly. Hermione stayed clamped to his side for about an hour after the ceremony, clearly still nervous about whatever it was she had not admitted to being nervous about when she'd come to him weeks ago. But after a few drinks of fairy punch she relaxed and was dancing closely with Remus in the grass near the fairy music.

Draco and his lady were dancing as well, smiling and laughing and generally carrying on like two fools in love. Harry watched them enviously, and thought at one point that Draco had glanced over to him. But it was just his imagination running off. He decided to just leave early.

As he neared the cloak tent, he heard shouting and recognized the voices immediately. He looked around the side of the tent and saw the arguing couple standing by the house. Ginny's hands were clenched into fists.

"I don't think it's funny," she snapped.

"Why are you acting like this?" said Loky. "You should be thrilled I was able to get away, not bitching on about nothing."

"You didn't get away for my graduation!"

"I told you, my dad wouldn't let me go out!"

"Have you even told him?" She paused for a second, before yelling, "My gods, Loky, you want us to get married but you can't even tell your dad about us?"

"You know how he is!"

"I know what he thinks of me."

They were silent for a moment. Then Ginny continued in a quieter voice, "I can't do this, Loky. I can't rely on you right now."

"Ginny, don't…"

"I can't. The world's falling apart, and I've got my hands full trying to figure out what happened to R… with my new job. I can't be with someone right now who isn't steady. I'm sorry." And with that, she turned and headed back into the crowded reception. Loky stood there for two seconds, swore heatedly, and then disapparated.

Harry ducked into the cloak tent and began shifting through the racks to find his cloak. He heard the creak of a rack moving behind him and turned to find himself face to face with his ex-boyfriend. Harry stared at him, convinced for a moment that Draco had sought him out. But then he remembered the beautiful woman he was with. Draco would be getting their cloaks to leave.

"Hullo," said Harry finally.

Draco nodded, quirked an eyebrow. Harry felt uncomfortable underneath his appraising stare. He took a nervous step to one side, returning his hands to their job searching through the racks.

"Leaving so soon?" drawled Draco.

"Yeah. I, uh, I have some work to do."

"Save the world?"

Harry laughed too loud at that. Draco stepped closer to him. He reached one hand into a rack, but it was clearly only a formality of pretense. He only had eyes for Harry.

"You weren't going to say goodbye? Or hello, for that matter?"

Harry flushed, looked away. "I didn't want to interrupt." Draco scoffed.

"Nonsense, Potter. I always have time for you."

He took another step closer, into Harry's space. Harry swallowed, fidgeted with the cloaks on the rack. Draco's intentions were clear as he turned his head slightly, showing off his neck. But Harry had been down this road before. He couldn't keep doing this—coming back to Draco before running away again.

The blonde leaned in, running his nose along Harry's jaw line, planting a kiss just below his ear.

Harry tried to step away, but he was powerless to do so. He was frankly amazed he was able to hold firm at all.

"Draco, I… I can't do this. Nothing's changed. I'm still not coming home."

Draco's hands were on his hips now, pulling him in.

"I'm not asking you to, this time." He was speaking into Harry's neck, his breath sending chills down Harry's spine. "Life moves on, and we must move with it." He nibbled the flesh just above Harry's collar. Harry moaned and Draco's smile spread against his skin. "In this new stage of my life, I can have you when you come through town. I don't need you to stay. In fact, it might be better if you didn't."

Harry turned to him to ask him what he was talking about, but before he could, Draco's lips were on his and he was lost to the madness of Draco's kisses, his touch. His own hands were on Draco's back, in his hair. They clawed at each other, kissing, biting, sucking. Harry was aware of hands on his bare flesh, underneath his clothes. Draco's clothes were coming off as well. Harry wondered when exactly his hands had betrayed him by undressing his ex. This wasn't right. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't.

"But… you… that lady…"

His shirt was open and Draco attached his mouth to one of Harry's nipples. His fingers dipped below his belt.

"What lady?" Draco groaned. He glanced over his shoulder, but they were very much alone, well concealed among all the cloaks.

"The one you're with."

"Oh, Persephone. She's fine. Her family knows the Crabbes from way back." Harry's belt hit the floor. Draco kissed him again. Harry fought through the fog that was muddying his brain. Something wasn't right.

"Persephone Hadens?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Draco. "You remember her?"

Harry did. Draco's mouth had his neck again; his hands worked their way into Harry's slacks. Harry pushed him back.

"Why are you with her? Is she the one you're going to marry?"

Draco nodded, his face flushed and frustrated. "I think so. Can we talk about this later?"

"But you didn't even like her."

"I like her just fine."

"Do you love her?"

Draco shot him a knowing grin, tried to kiss him again, but Harry held firm. Draco sighed.

"Don't worry about that right now. I only just met her again after not seeing her for years. I couldn't possibly love her yet."

"But you'll marry her." Harry's heart was in his throat. It occurred to him to look to Draco's hand, just to confirm there was no ring. But to his horror he saw a gold band around his ex's third finger. He almost threw up right then.

"Love has nothing to do with marriage, Harry. That's what I was telling you. We can just be together on the side. I'm not asking you to come back to me."

_And why not?_

"You're really going to marry her? You'll really go through with it?"

Draco eyed him suspiciously, and Harry was certain he saw the jealousy and heartbreak in Harry's eyes. Even after all this time. He smirked, but not entirely unkindly.

"What? You thought I'd always be here waiting for you, Potter?" he teased.

"Well, yes," Harry answered honestly. Draco looked startled.

"Things change, Harry. I can't live my life around you. I'm getting married. I'll produce an heir. You can come round sometimes."

Harry shook his head firmly, refastening his pants. He reached down for his belt. "No," he said. "You're engaged now. You're off limits."

"Harry, I just told you…"

"No." The word was more forceful this time. Draco stepped back. "I'm not going to…" He sighed and looked around, buttoning his shirt. Draco started pulling his clothes back together as well.

"Draco, if you're going to marry her, you should try to love her. She always seemed nice enough. She deserves that consideration."

"Harry, love doesn't have anything to do with ma…"

"Yes it does. It should." Harry carded his hands through his hair, his emotions wild within him. Half of him wanted to force Draco to just break off the engagement and stay with him. But the other half of him knew he could never be what Draco needed. That half of him really wanted Draco to be happy, really wanted Draco to do this thing right.

"You said life moves on. Well, move with it. If you're going to marry her, don't do it halfway. You can be happy, Draco. Really happy. But this," he motioned between the two of them, "This won't work. Not for either of us."

Draco looked at him, his face unreadable. And Harry knew he still loved him. He figured he always would. But there was a finality of affairs between them. It seemed to Harry that none of the other times they'd broken up had really mattered. This was the moment their relationship actually ended.

They finished getting dressed in a very unhappy silence. Harry found his cloak. He was just preparing to apparate when he heard Ginny call his name, aloud and in his head. She was running toward them, searching him out through their bond. He and Draco came out of the cloak tent together. As Ginny rushed forward, he could tell she quickly summed up the situation. A flash of anger ran through her, but it was overridden by relief that Harry was still there, and… something else. Something terrible had happened.

"What's wrong?" he said immediately, anxiously.

"I don't know exactly." She had a crumpled piece of parchment in her hands; she held it up and Harry saw it had been ripped in half. "I was over at the reception. Remus and Hermione had wandered off. _Alone,_ you know? I thought I… I thought I heard screaming from down the road. I knew it was Hermione. I ran, but they were already gone. I found this."

Harry looked down at it. Draco read over his shoulder. It was an official letter from the Ministry, but it was hard to tell what it was about.

To Miss Hermione Gra 

****

**_We regret to inform yo_**

**_wiped, due to a breech_**

**_a dancing tea set in a mu_**

**_Also, we discovered an e_**

**_safe deposit box in Lo_**

**_"Gertrude Little" who liv_**

**_instructions that upon_**

**_opened. Furthermore, we_**

**_wizarding photographs,_**

**_to the Muggle Prime Minis_**

**_Potter and friends at Hog_**

**_incriminating, meant t_**

**_our world at risk. Theref_**

**_sentence immediately._**

****

**_You are advised to hav_**

**_with them. Your legal ties_**

**_severed. Your parents_**

**_we discover you contact_**

**_in Azkaban, prosecu_**

**_law._**

****

**_Good day,_**

**_Secritus Nimbledow_**

**_Department of Secr_**

"Where did you find it?"

"This way."

They cut back through the reception. Ginny pointed into the darkness beyond. Remus and Hermione had apparently continued on through Lovegoods' land to a winding dirt road at the bottom of the hill. The three lit their wands with _Lumos_ and prepared to head out into the night, when a dreamy voice came from behind.

"Have you seen Hermione? We're going to be leaving soon for our honeymoon. I wanted to say goodbye."

All three of them turned around, trying to look calm and composed. Harry was relieved the others had made the same split-second decision. This was Luna's wedding night. There was no reason to concern her with whatever had happened to Hermione.

But Luna took one look at their faces, and her smile fell.

"What's wrong?"

Harry sighed, but could tell from the look in her eye that she would force the issue. He showed her the letter. As she looked over it, her mouth dropped open in something akin to horror.

"We don't know what it means," said Draco. "We only have the one half."

"Did you read the other half?" She asked, closing her right eye as she looked at him.

Draco pressed his lips flat. "We only have the one half," he repeated, more pointedly.

"You need only fill in the gaps to read the whole thing. Where did you find this?"

Ginny motioned toward the road. Crabbe came lumbering up behind Luna. She turned to her new husband and motioned the group of them to follow her into the night.

"We have to find Hermione, Vince. Her parents have been brain-wiped by the Ministry."

Harry, Ginny and Draco all stopped short. "What?!"

"They found those things her parents took from her after Ron died. They were going to use them as evidence to expose our world." Her voice was far away, as though she were telling them of a memory long forgotten.

Harry said, "Luna, how can you be sure?"

But Luna hurried on.

XIXIX

Remus half dragged, half carried, the flailing witch through the halls of Durmstrang. She had been in hysterics since the letter came. He couldn't blame her for that, but he also couldn't let her go to her parents. The letter from the Ministry had been quite clear that if she tried to contact them now that their memories of her had been obliterated, she could be sent to Azkaban.

She had screamed, had fought him, had ripped the letter in half, ranting about her need to avenge them, to fix them, to see them, to kill whoever had done this to them. She had gone stark raving mad there in the road, and Remus couldn't help but be thankful they had stepped away from the wedding party just before the owl came to her.

He apparated them back to Durmstrang, and had every intention of locking her in her room until she exhausted herself. He didn't know what he'd do after that. He didn't know if she would recover from this. Hermione had been through so much in such a short period of time. The idea of her locked in a padded white room at St. Mungo's terrified him. If worse came to worst, he'd find another option. He simply could not let that happen.

Victor Krum met them in the hallway having heard her screams, his face lined with concern and then panic. "Vhat has happened? Vhat is wrong vith her?"

"Help me get her to her room."

Victor gently grabbed her other arm and began to lead her forward. She struggled further at first, but then stilled suddenly between the two men. They walked forward in relative silence for the length of one hallway until she snapped again and began a slow keening that raised in intensity until she was shrieking again.

Victor pulled away enough to cast a silencing spell over them. It only seemed to agitate Hermione more. She began to thrash out again, kicking and swinging her arms with a rabid frenzy. Victor hit her with a full body bind. Remus grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall.

"Take her to her room," breathed Victor, struggling away from the werewolf. "I vill go and…" His eyes were panicked completely. Remus let him go and turned back to Hermione. Victor fled the scene, clearly unable to deal with her hysterics. Remus didn't know what he meant to go and do, but he didn't see Victor again that night.

He released Hermione from the body bind, gathered her up and hurried her on to her rooms. He carried her in, kicked the door shut behind him. She struggled out of his arms. He ended the silencing charm on her as well.

She was shaking her head, in turns whispering and shrieking, "He left me. He left me. Of course he left me. They always leave me."

"Hermione…" Remus watched her closely, hoping she didn't go for her wand. He hadn't wanted to take it from her, fearing it would only serve to upset her further. But he would take it if she attempted to use it for anything this night.

"It's because I can't control it. I know but I don't know. I See, but not enough and I don't do anything about it. I knew this would happen. I knew they would Obliviate them. I knew my parents were a threat. I knew it. I just didn't realize it. All the pieces were there for me to put together, and I didn't do it.

"They took my things. They took my things when Ron died so they would have proof. So people wouldn't think they were crazy when they said magic was real. They told me they would keep silent. I warned them this might happen. But they stole my things and they had proof and they sent the proof to my Aunt Gertrude and to the muggle papers and the _muggle Prime Minister_, for Merlin's sake!"

She was screaming again, pointing at her window accusingly, indicting the world that lay beyond for this harsh reaction to her parents' mistakes.

"I saw it all, but I couldn't put the pieces together! I always do this, Remus! I _have always_ done this!"

"Hermione, it's not your fault…"

"It is. It's all my fault. I could have stopped it. I could have stopped so many things. I was… I was reading tea leaves that day, Remus."

"What day?" he asked quietly, trying to calm her.

"THE DAY," she shrieked. "The day of the Final Battle. I was reading tea leaves, and I saw there was betrayal, but I didn't read more. Draco came in right then and he and Harry fought because Draco thought Harry was betraying him, cheating on him with Snape. But that was nothing! NOTHING! The betrayal was our meeting with Percy! And it wouldn't have happened if I had just trusted my Sight, if I had just _read the goddamned tea leaves_!!"

"You can't blame yourself for that!" he gasped, startled. Had she been carrying the whole war on her back this whole time? Did she really feel responsible for the inevitable?

"Ginny wouldn't have been tortured. Ron wouldn't have killed his brother. So many people wouldn't have died because they never could have gotten past the wards…"

"They would've gotten past the wards, Hermione. They did. They would do so no matter what you Saw or didn't See…"

"I never figured it out. I had all these feelings, these senses, and I Saw something, but I never figured it out. I killed so many people because I couldn't take ten minutes to read a damned tea cup!"

"Hermione, you didn't kill anyone."

"I killed Ron." A whisper. Then a scream. "_I killed him!_ I had the prophecy. I knew. I knew I wasn't supposed to be with him. I knew when you came to me that day…"

She stared at him, wildly. Remus' heart thudded in his chest. What was she saying? She couldn't possibly mean…

"When you came to me that day," she repeated, quieter, "I knew it then. And I married him anyway. He couldn't live because I wasn't supposed to spend my life with him. I was supposed to…"

She turned away suddenly, wailing, falling to the floor. Remus was on his knees behind her, his arms around her.

"My parents! _My parents!_"

"Shh, shh…"

"There's nobody left, Remus. There's nobody left who loves me."

He held her tighter. "Of course there is," he whispered in her ears.

The door slammed open behind them. Luna stormed in, the luminous wisps of her wedding dress flowing out behind her.

"Hermione!" she called, rushing forward. She slid on her knees next to Hermione and Remus, wrapping her arms around both of them.

The Seer blinked at her, shocked into calm. She had seen this before. Luna came in wearing her wedding dress. But it was her wedding night. They should be leaving already for their honeymoon.

"Luna, you shouldn't be here."

Luna petted her head. "We're here for you," she whispered. "You're not alone. You're never alone."

Remus and Hermione looked up. Ginny came in, and Harry, and Draco, and Crabbe. They all came forward, settling on the floor around Hermione, leaning on each other, wrapping their arms around their grieving friend, around each other.

Hermione looked around at the group crowding around her. Remus still held her in his arms. The look on his face was that of such intense concern. She knew he would never let her go. He would stay with her. They would all stay with her—even Crabbe whom she really hardly knew.

She was exhausted. She was angry and grief-stricken. She was erratic, half-insane, guilty, explosive. She felt the hands and arms that held her, circling the other people as they piled into a protective group around her. She dropped her head back on Remus' shoulder. He pressed his cheek against her forehead. She stiffened as a vision overtook her.

She stood beside Harry who was strapped to a vertical table, barely conscious. The lights flickered. A red raven clawed at a contraption at Harry's side. Witches and wizards battled all around them. Draco. Severus. Hermione stood calm with her terror, her arms encircling Harry as best they could. With an explosive bang the door flew off its hinges, but Hermione did not jump. The werewolf tore into the room, ripping two people to shreds within seconds. Then it turned on them. Hermione knew they may all die here today if she did nothing. She opened her mouth to call…

Hermione jerked her head away from Remus, but his strong arms held her closer. She looked into his eyes, calm in the knowledge that her death may come at his hands.

"What is it?" he whispered, clearly recognizing her return to sanity.

But she shook her head. Looking into his eyes, this true friend, she just couldn't tell him. The future would come, and it would take them all with it. This group that had come to her, this group that had come apart at the seams, this group would come together again. And more. There would be others.

The future would come. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against Remus. In her heart she held tight to all of them. The future would come.

So mote it be.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Everything I know about peyote I learned from wikipedia. So, if any shamans out there read this chapter and shook their heads and thought, "That woman has no idea what she's talking about," it was with good reason. I don't. But let's just pretend for the sake of the story, eh? Hermione needs to stop fighting her gift, but it's hard for her. (By the way, her teacup failure is in Chapter 23 of ABL)

Also, Xenophilius Lovegood is Darwin Lovegood here because I named him Darwin Lovegood in ABL (Chapter 24—I created a character for him at the time, but never could fit in a cameo, so he's only mentioned in passing). Similarly, the Homenum revelio spell noted in Deathly Hallows was called _Retegere Hominum_ in ABL (Chapter 13—when Ginny confronts Harry about his relationship with Malfoy), thus it is the same here. ABL was written before DH, and I feel weird about adjusting. Put in a few winks, though—Luna's middle name in last chapter was noted to be Xenophilia, and of course the Crumple Horned Snorkack. Couldn't resist.

Persephone Hadens is mentioned in Chapter 22 of A Boy, Lost, "And So It Begins, Part I" in case anyone wants to go back and read the conversation between Harry and Draco in which she is mentioned for the first time.

I wish I could go back and reference all the important stuff from TTB, but the list goes on. But, it's all coming together now. We're so close I can taste it.

Reviews quite welcome. ;)

peace,

tangledhair

p.s. Oh! And because I know this is important to many of you… there will be no HP/SS nookie in this story. I wavered with that for awhile, but have decided against it. There will be more Harry and Draco interaction. And yes, Draco really is engaged. And he really does believe those things about marriage. Just think about how he shacked up with Harry when he was betrothed to Pansy. It's his worldview. Cut him some slack. :)


	28. The Unifying Theme

X

XIX

XIXIX "The Unifying Theme" XIXIX

Draco was on the floor pretending to sleep and trying to fool himself into thinking he actually had.

Slept.

At all during that long, long night.

Hermione's insanity had waned with exhaustion, and eventually Luna had taken her to bed. But the Seer had snapped and no one could disagree when Ginny said it would be best for her to have her friends nearby, just in case.

Remus had fallen asleep leaning against the wall next the bedroom door. Ginny had taken the couch. Draco and Vince grabbed the rug in front of the fireplace, and Harry had paced until his twin had told him "to sit down, at least." He'd dozed in the armchair by the window throughout the night. Draco had watched him from the floor.

It was strange how things worked. Before he got engaged, Draco had sworn off Harry Potter forever. Then, when he was finally willing to take what little Harry had to offer, _Harry_ had cut all romantic ties. Watching him throughout this crazy night, Draco was shocked to realize how indifferent he felt just now. Maybe he was just numb in the early morning, after such an intensely emotional evening and a long sleepless night. Because only hours ago he'd been furious.

_Had_ been furious, until Hermione…

A bigger problem comes along and suddenly all of Draco's dramas seem so trivial. What did the _entire Malfoy fortune_ even matter if the Ministry could take a notion to be evil and wipe away your entire family?

He hadn't wanted to say it out loud. But Draco _knew_ that the Ministry had not followed protocol when they brain-wiped the Grangers. There should have been a trial. They should have been allowed to speak in their own defense. Hermione should have had months to prepare for it. And in the past Dumbledore would have swooped in and fixed everything, much to Fudge's consternation.

But this? This was wrong. And unfortunately, this was getting to be pretty bloody normal in their political system. Tonks had said that certain people seemed to be signaled out, their lives torn apart by bureaucratic nonsense. Political hell. This case seemed to be horrifying proof.

Hermione could file a complaint, of course. But then there'd be months of paperwork, followed by months of investigation by a committee, followed by months of more paperwork, to be followed by (if it got this far) months of civil trial at which point they would probably deem that it was too late anyway for them to even bother anymore.

The real question was, why Hermione? Maybe Ron had been the true target having learned something he shouldn't know. Perhaps they were just tying up loose ends, trying to bully and terrify Hermione into silence in case Ron had let something slip to her.

It was also possible the Hermione had been the target all along. A famous Seer. A war hero. Maybe they were afraid she'd See something and so they set about trying to drive her crazy so that no one would take her seriously when she came forward with some horrible Truth. So they take her husband, destroy her parents…

He'd have to talk to Ginny about all of this later. Maybe the Grangers' brain-wipe was something else they should bring into their unofficial investigation.

"Harry?"

Draco snapped his eyes shut when Ginny shifted on the couch.

"Are you leaving?" Her voice was groggy and soft. Annoyed.

Harry didn't say anything for a long moment, and then Draco was annoyed. They were probably carrying on the conversation in their heads so they wouldn't disturb the sleepers. But Draco wanted to eavesdrop. He wanted to know if Harry was going, and where. He wanted to know if Ginny would try to convince him to stay, and if he would. He was just about to give up hearing anything when Harry finally responded, his voice thick with guilt.

"I have to go, Ginny," he said.

"Even now? Hermione needs us."

Draco peeped his eye open. Harry was shaking his head slowly. "I can't. Anyway, she doesn't need me anymore. I've been away so long."

"_I_ need you, Harry. I want you to stay. You know what all of this means, what it means for the Ministry, what it means for those of us who aren't just following along. This is going to get really bad, Harry. I need someone I can trust."

"You have Draco," he said quietly. "He'll watch your back."

Ginny looked away, so that she was facing the blonde in question. Her eyes were squeezed shut. She looked absolutely heart-broken. Draco wanted to jump up and scream at his ex. Couldn't he see how he was tearing them all apart?!

"And your family," Harry continued. "And what about Neville? He'd do anything for you. You two were inseparable for years."

Ginny looked back to him, her mask restored. "He's still in the Americas. I don't think he wants to see me. Crabbe told me he decided not to come to the wedding after he heard Loky and I would be there."

_After he heard you'd be there with Loky,_ Draco corrected in his head.

"That can't be right," said Harry. "Neville would do anything for you. He worships you."

"I miss him a lot," Ginny admitted. "I thought he'd always be there for me."

_Sounds familiar_, thought Draco. _Harry thought I'd always be waiting for him_.

"Have you been to see Severus at all?" Ginny asked, changing the subject.

Harry was silent for a long time before he whispered, "No."

"Have you spoken with him?"

He shook his head.

"He's your bondmate, Harry…"

"I know what he is to me," he hissed. "And I tried to get him… get him to s…" he choked on the words, "to get him to s… sever the bond so he'd be free."

Ginny gasped. "Harry, no!"

"But he wouldn't." Harry was almost sobbing. Draco was infuriated. How could he even suggest such a thing? Severus certainly wouldn't want it, and it was clear from the emotion on Harry's face he didn't want it either. What the _hell_ was going on with him?!

"Why would you—"

"It would be better that way," said Harry brokenly. "I'm no good for anyone. If I could cut all my ties with everyone I would. You'd all be better off if I could just stay away completely."

Ginny's voice was shaking. "Harry, you listen to me. We are _not_ better off without you. We want you _home_. We want you in our lives. Our lives are _better_ when you're a part of them. We _want you to stay_, Harry. Stay with us."

But in the end, Harry wouldn't listen to her. And in the end, Harry wouldn't stay. Draco had seen this time and time again since the war, but it suddenly struck him as odd. Before he would just be angry. He would write it off to Harry being flaky again. And a heartless, careless, thoughtless arsehole. But now…

Maybe Draco thought it because of the exhausted detachment he felt, lying there on the floor at Durmstrang…

But Harry's behavior was odd. It was un-Harry-like. It was most definitely not normal.

And it occurred to Draco that a whole string of Ministry-related problems had something in common. Draco and Ginny being blacklisted. Ron disappearing. Hermione's parents. The unifying theme was Harry Potter, close personal friend to all those affected. And Harry himself acting like a half-crazed agoraphobic loner, when before the war he'd always been social, always been loyal to his loved ones, always been brave in the face of adversity, fierce in the face of injustice…

This wasn't right. This couldn't be right.

XIXIX

Draco was pensive for weeks while he thought on all of this. He and Ginny were still avoiding conversations on their extra investigations so they could plausibly deny the other's involvement. But the more Draco thought on the connection he had discovered, and the more Draco thought on Harry's behavior over the years, the more sure he was that he and Ginny were about to take the plunge. Very soon would they cross the point of no return, when they would be so critically bound up in this mess that if either of them were caught, they'd both be damned. Draco wasn't entirely sure he would recognize the exact moment they crossed that line, but as soon as he knew they were well and firm on the other side, he and his partner were going to have a very long talk about Harry Potter.

He knew this time was drawing close for two reasons.

First, it seemed the Ministry of Magic reached a new low every single day. Going into the field, the Aurors were just as likely to face citizens who feared them as they were to meet citizens who thought they were heroes. It seemed there were plenty of Auror groups out there that the Ministry wielded like a club against its own people. Draco had reason to suspect his Auror training classmates Smarte and Bryde were in one such group. It made no difference that his own group's fieldwork consisted solely of fighting Dark magic. The Aurors were getting a reputation of being the Ministry's pit bulls.

This was, of course, to say nothing of the office hell Draco and Ginny had to put up with. When they weren't out on the field, they were treated like children, House Elves, traitors, nincompoops, Death Eaters, filing clerks, animals, office furniture, suspects, thin air, or any combination of the aforementioned. The only reason Draco put up with any of this was the second reason.

He knew the point of no return was fast approaching because the "unofficial" investigations with Tonks and Kingsley were about to come to a head. They were planning on breaking into the Ministry while it was closed for the holidays to do a little evidence gathering. And there was simply no way he and Ginny were going to pass up the opportunity to search for information on what happened to Ron.

The suspense of their upcoming operation weighed on Draco. There were moments he wondered how he'd gotten into all of this, and why he would even bother. The aristocratic selfishness with which he'd been raised fought against putting everything on the line, and for what? How could he possibly benefit from all of this?

The answer, of course, was that the personal benefits he'd been raised to seek were no longer the benefits he really valued. Sure, he wanted wealth and power—who wouldn't? He ached to restore the Malfoy name; he hungered for the day he would return to Malfoy Manor as its rightful Lord. But it wasn't enough anymore. He needed—_needed_—to set the world right, where it had gone so terribly wrong.

After these last years, he felt he finally understood what Harry and Ginny were always on about.

Still, this weighed on him. He would never restore the Malfoy name, would never marry Persephone and return to Malfoy Manor… if they got caught come Christmas. Because he'd be joining one of his parents, either in Azkaban or in the afterlife.

Draco narrowed his eyes at this, scowling at the book in his lap. Persephone came up behind him, plucking the book from his grip and replacing herself within it.

"You've been so surly, lately, Draco. What can I do for you?"

Draco sighed as he wrapped his arms around his beautiful fiancée. Here was another problem. He had explained his mother's marital stipulation on his inheritance, and the young woman had happily agreed to marry him. But she had insisted on a long engagement, a big wedding. This would have been fine, preferable even, if Draco could be sure he would still be groom material after a long engagement. However, if he was killed or locked up, he would never be able to make good on his promises of wealth and property.

"Let's elope," he said.

She laughed, teased his hair. Draco had a fleeting image of Ginny laughing at him when he had proposed to her. If he wasn't already engaged to the woman on his lap he might start to get offended by all of this.

"We can get married this weekend," he continued, "And move into the Manor immediately."

Persephone tucked a stray lock behind his ear and looked at him kindly. "Does it really mean so much to you to have the Manor back that you can't wait another year?"

Draco leaned his head on her shoulder. "I'm thinking of you," he said. "You were engaged to a prince before. You can't be happy with a junior Auror who lives in a tiny London flat."

"I can be, and I am."

He shifted to look into her eyes. How could he convince her? If they didn't do this now, she might be left with nothing. He knew how much wealth meant to her. And if he might die, it was better that she get it than some distant relative he'd never met.

"Persephone," he said gently, "It's important to me that you have everything you desire. I can't provide for you properly until we get married. How could you possibly still want to wait?"

She sighed. "Draco Malfoy, how long have you known me?"

"All my life."

"And did you ever consider marrying me before we met on the street last month?"

Where was she going with this? "I…"

"No, of course you didn't," she answered. "You were betrothed to that pretty little Parkinson trollop and had every intention of marrying her. Which was such a shame. For me. I had spent many long years debating whom I would marry if I had my druthers and whom I would settle for if worse came to worst."

Draco smirked at the glint in her eye. "And I was on your list?" he asked.

"You were at the top of my list," she replied. "In face, after I realized your alliances were beginning to change during the war, you were the _only one_ on my list."

He looked at her sharply. Persephone had never seemed aware of the war, much less the alliances of those around her. Only now did it occur to Draco that she might have feigned this ignorance in self-defense.

"When exactly did you realize my alliances were changing?" he asked, trying to clarify how aware she had been.

"When you first made your truce with Potter. I knew then you would end up on his side when all was said and done. I knew Pansy would not, so that meant your betrothal was out of my way. But even then I had some intuition that you would wind up _with_ Potter if I couldn't stop it."

A devious smile spread across Draco's lips. "So you came to me and told me that Harry would never fit in with the Slytherins, and to keep my distance from him."

She winked at him playfully. "And I failed miserably, and you were still with him when I graduated, and I assumed you would remain with him. So I moved to Paris and found a prince. A fabulously wealthy dethroned prince with a list of personal problems the length of my arm."

She spread out the elegant appendage for effect.

"Draco, my love," she said, meeting his gaze seriously, "If I only wanted wealth, I would have married him anyway. Husbands can be avoided, and fortunes can be hidden from gambling addicts. I could have made it work, if that were what I wanted."

He narrowed his eyes again, shook his head. "No, you agreed to marry me after I told you the status of the Malfoy fortune."

"Because you didn't ask me to marry you until after you told me of it. Draco, I don't need the Malfoy fortune. The Hadens are only a minor house, but we have wealth enough for comfort. _I_ could support us both even if you were a pauper."

"I'm hardly a pauper."

Persephone laughed. "You were never on my list for your wealth. You topped my list because of your charm, your wit, your intelligence, your power, your charisma," she shrugged, "Your devastating good looks…"

Now Draco laughed.

"I don't need your fortune. I would marry you without it."

Draco was silent for a time. Persephone traced the lines of his face with delicate fingers. She _was_ beautiful. And sweet. And funny. And apparently a whole lot more intelligent and aware than he'd ever given her credit for. She would definitely help to restore the Malfoy name. There was no reason to wait.

"Then let's get married this weekend," he tried again.

Again, she laughed. "No, Draco. I won't."

"Why not?" he said teasingly. "You say you've always wanted to marry me. Now you have me, let's go."

She hushed him with a fingertip. "Because I don't want to be your trophy wife. I want a long engagement so that I'll have plenty of time to get you to fall firmly in love with me."

Draco had another fleeting image, this one of Harry telling him to try to love her. '_If you're going to marry her, don't do it halfway. You can be happy, Draco, really happy.'_

Draco pulled her close and held her tight. He did like her. And he liked her more with each passing day they spent together. Maybe he _could_ love her in time. But maybe he didn't have the time. He could marry her now to ensure she'd be financially set. Or he could wait, try and give her the love she really wanted from him, and risk leaving her with nothing if he got caught.

"I don't know how to do right by you," he murmured into her hair.

XIXIX

Ginny was running late. She had been in a pissy mood the night before and had apparently said something that angered the family clock. In retaliation, it had not changed Ginny's hand from "Sleeping" to "Time to get up" until it was actually "Time to leave for work."

Molly hadn't realized anything was amiss until it was almost too late. She had rushed into Ginny's room screaming, which hadn't done much to calm the tardy witch. She was right frantic by the time she made it downstairs and bolted toward the fireplace. There was a rushing sound and the youngest Weasley was brought up short. Neville Longbottom's head appeared before her.

For a moment, Ginny could only stare.

"Um, hullo, Ginny," he said tentatively, looking her over.

The redhead was suddenly very aware of her disheveled state. She must look a fright. She dropped to her knees before her friend and ran a hand through her hair, hoping it wasn't too terribly tangled.

"Hi, Neville," she said.

"You look g—" he stopped himself with a blush. "I mean, I just got your message this morning."

"I… yeah, your Gran said they'd sent you into the mountains. But it's been weeks since. I thought maybe…"

He flushed again. "We didn't have any communication up there. I would never… _ignore_ something so important. It's terrible about Hermione's folks. I just firecalled her."

"How was she?" Ginny knew, of course. She talked to Hermione every day now. The woman was barely holding it together.

"Not good," said Neville. "I can't believe the Ministry just brain-wiped them like that. It's a pretty severe penalty, you know? I've never heard of anything so extreme."

"I know. I—"

Ginny cut off, because Molly walked into the room and shrieked, "Ginny! What are you still doing here?! You're late enough as it is!"

When Ginny looked up, Molly suddenly caught sight of Neville's head in the fireplace. She deflated immediately. "Oh. Sorry. Hello, Neville dear. Would you care for some toast?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I have to get going anyway. Ginny, I hadn't intended to make you late."

"It's okay, Neville," she replied sincerely. "It's really good to see you. I hate how you're so far away. I… I miss you. A lot."

Neville's eyes brightened suddenly, but just as suddenly he grew very distant. He forced a cheerful smile onto his face, but Ginny could tell his defenses had gone up.

"Right," he said. "As a friend. Sure, of course. Same here…uh, pal."

She swallowed hard, but her heart remained firmly lodged in her throat.

XIXIX

That afternoon, while she and Draco sat buried behind stacks of paperwork in their tiny little cubical, Ginny asked the question that had been plaguing her for some time now.

"Do you think Neville was in love with me?"

Draco peered over one of the enormous paper piles.

"What?"

"Do you think that's why he left to the Americas? Because he was in love with me and I got back with Lokstavian? Because he turned down that position for over a year and then he just took it suddenly and we talk less and less and—does he love me?"

Draco snickered. He couldn't help it. Ginny was always so in control of everything. Even through all the ups and downs of her relationship with Lokstavian, even when they broke up at Luna and Vincent's wedding, she had never seemed so nervous or unsure of herself as she did now. It was highly amusing.

"Well," he began, but was interrupted.

Tonks flung herself into their cubical. She stumbled and caught herself on the corner of Ginny's desk, sending a huge stack of paperwork flying. That she didn't pause to apologize for her clumsiness was a testament to her agitation.

"We gotta go," she said. "Big problems. Kingsley's in the briefing room. Let's go!"

They leapt up and followed Tonks on her haphazard journey through the maze of cubicles, down the hall, and into the briefing room. The office was a case study in growing pandemonium. Owls were swooping this way and that. Patronuses were appearing and disappearing again. Shouts were being raised. And it seemed every field-ready Auror group was squeezing into that room.

Along the way, Draco and Ginny squared their shoulders into forced calm. This was big, whatever it was. Theirs was not going to be a boring day.

In an attempt at maintaining their cool in the face of chaos, Draco hissed at Ginny, "You should ask Potter."

She cut him a questioning look.

"About Neville," he continued. "Ask Harry whether he thinks Neville's in love with you."

"Oh. I thought you meant I should ask him about our mission. No, I can't ask him anyway. He's been _gone_ all day."

They entered the briefing room, taking up positions in the back. Tonks signaled to Kingsley, who stood in the front with another of the Head Aurors. They both looked grim. Kingsley unfurled a huge wizarding photograph, magicking it onto the wall so everyone could see. Gasps sounded throughout the room. Murmurs and shouts erupted.

"Gringotts is under attack!" Kingsley called out above them.

Indeed, the photograph showed a long view of the face of the famous building on Diagon Alley, cracked and burnt. The eastern quarter of the second floor had been rent asunder. Witches and wizards ran amok below while others, dressed in the horrific garb of Death Eaters, hurled spells left and right attacking the building, attacking both humans and non-humans on the street below. Goblins, armed with spears, clubs, and maces, fought back ferociously with both their physical weaponry and their own special magic. But it was clear they were no match for the horror they confronted.

"The vaults are as yet uncompromised. But the building has taken more damage than it has ever before seen. Not even Grindelwald was able to blast a hole into Gringotts, and the Goblins fended off his attack without the help of the Ministry. But they need us now. They have come willingly for our assistance, and…"

Kingsley clamped his mouth shut suddenly, his jaw twitching angrily. He took a deep breath and continued, "the Minister… negotiated… a deal… offering our assistance."

Though he tried to speak the sentence as neutral fact, he failed miserably. It was clear what Kingsley thought of the Minister's deal, whatever it was. He continued quickly.

"There are at least a dozen Death Eaters on Diagon Alley, and as many as twenty. Witness reports have conflicted. Some have said a single Death Eater was causing the most damage while the others attacked in more minor ways. Others have said that the entire group threw spells cohesively. Combined power could explain the amount of damage."

The other Head Auror stepped up. "I've laid out our offensive strike."

In a flurry, he assigned the teams to various positions about Diagon Alley, each with a different focus. One team to protect innocent bystanders. Three teams to infiltrate Gringotts, including Smarte and Bryde's team. Two teams to hold off further outside attack, including Ginny and Draco's team. One team to scatter about Diagon Alley for surveillance.

"Find out if this is a group effort, or if we have a new Dark Lord on our hands!" he barked.

And, knowing what they were diving into, the teams disapparated.

XIXIX

Things had gotten far worse by the time they got there. During the brief instant in which she adjusted after apparating, Ginny decided the photograph must have been taken before the unnecessary delay of Goblin-Minster negotiations. They should have been sent as soon as they were asked for. Blast it, they should have been sent sooner, if only to protect the people on Diagon Alley!

The entire eastern face of Gringotts had been reduced to rubble. Of the streetfront, only the doors remained standing. Goblins and people lay strewn bloodied across the street, while others battled on. Black-robed figures hurled hexes left and right. It was horrible. Ginny let out a terrific roar as she and her team joined in the fight.

"Merlin's balls!" screeched one of the Death Eaters. "It's her!"

Ginny dodged a flash of green light, sent off a Stunning Spell in return.

Just then, the earth began to quake. The Aurors, new to the scene, stumbled and paused their offensive, looking around in alarm. The Goblins and Death Eaters seemed not to notice this new development. And suddenly, another piece of Gringotts fell to the ground.

"Get him out of here! Get him out of here!" the same figure screamed. Ginny tried to Stun that one too, but her spell passed through empty air as the robed figure disapparated with a _crack_. Another _crack_ sounded from up above and immediately the tremors ceased.

Ginny heard two more _cracks_ before the Aurors were able to set up anti-apparation wards around the area. The remaining Death Eaters seemed to panic at this. The curses they sent off became more and more desperate.

A Goblin rushed past, climbing through the rubble and back into Gringotts. Ginny heard him call out, "The worst of them is gone!" He was hit in the back by a curse and toppled forward.

Ginny started to head toward him, but she saw an entire team move that way. Remembering herself, she fell back into position. Her team was to secure the outer area. There were Death Eaters embedded all around, firing curses from hiding places in the devastation of the street. She saw Draco crouched down twenty paces to her left. Tonks was just beyond him. She motioned for them to move around the side of the building. There seemed to be a lot of activity in that area.

Just then, Ginny felt some little bit of consciousness awaken in her, causing a stir of panic in her gut. Harry had just 'returned'. As her team moved out, Ginny cursed six ways from Sunday.

Sometimes when he got back from wherever he went, Harry would be hurt. The pain wasn't always bad, and he usually blocked it from her best he could until he healed himself. But the last thing she needed now was a distraction. She prayed he wouldn't be too bad off, and moved out.

XIXIX

Mala Suerte was on the couch with Ryan when Harry apparated just inside the front door. She leapt up and went to him. He had that glazed look about him again. She stood just before him, but it was like he couldn't see her. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans she'd never seen before. That wasn't entirely unusual either. He often returned home wearing "new" clothes. New clothes that were ripped and bloodied and muddied.

As bad as her luck was, Mala wouldn't trade places with Harry Potter for _anything_.

"Is he okay?" asked Ryan from behind her.

She shook her head. "I don't know yet. It takes a few moments sometimes before he… er, comes home all the way."

"Is there anything I can—"

Just then, Harry's eyes snapped into focus and he let out a low moan of pain. He dropped to the floor in a twitching crumple. Mala fell to her knees beside him. Panicking over the whimpering form for only a moment, she quickly got to work. She needed to assess the damage. She waved her wand to remove his clothes. As soon as she did, Ryan gagged behind her.

"Oh, Christ!" she gasped.

Most of his skin was black and blue. His torso was abnormally dented and three ribs protruded through his flesh. The damage was so far beyond anything Mala Suerte had ever seen. There was no way she could handle this.

"We have to get him to the hospital," she said steadily, though in her mind she was shrieking.

"We could apparate him into Prague…"

"No." Mala shook her head. "We've got to get him to St. Mungo's. They dealt with trauma like this in the war." She looked up to Ryan with firm, intensely determined eyes. "Can you help me with this?"

Ryan glanced down to Harry and gagged again. But he swallowed hard and nodded. Mala took Harry's wand from his hand so he wouldn't lose it when they moved him. She and Ryan gathered up his body and apparated away.

XIXIX

Draco was next to Ginny as they moved into the alley alongside the western wall of Gringotts. Tonks and Kingsley had cast a barricade to seal off the other end. Any Death Eaters inside would be trapped like rats, desperate and dangerous. Their team need only neutralize them, but it was a tight situation. And given the magnitude of the attack, it was imperative that no more of them escape.

Draco and Ginny had been friends a long time. They had trained together. They were partners. Draco noticed a tenseness about her shoulders as they moved in, but it all happened so fast. He knew something was wrong; there simply wasn't time to find out what. Had he known, he would have stepped in to engage the robed figure that charged them. He never would have left Ginny to that duel alone.

As it was, Ginny took on the first one, and Draco turned his focus on another. His foe was not very skilled. Draco had him stunned in a moment. He spared a glance at Ginny just in time to see her stiffen and cry out, though she had not been hit. But that one moment was enough to give her opponent the edge he needed.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. A stream of purple light hit her square in the chest. She flew backward and hit the wall with a crunch. Draco attacked, funneling every ounce of the rage that filled him into his spellcasting. He moved to stand over his partner, protecting her from further harm as the Aurors neutralized the remaining threat.

Afterward, he was only vaguely aware of a problem with some of the other teams—some conflict with the Goblins. He was only vaguely aware of the Minister's arrival, of the uproar that occurred when he and his delegation entered Gringotts and confronted a team of Goblins with signed paperwork. He barely noticed when six of the Goblins were Stunned and carted away from the premises.

Draco stayed with his partner and an Emergency Healer until she was stabilized. Then he followed her to St. Mungo's, where he stayed at her bedside for two days until she woke. Persephone came in, bringing him food and kindness. Draco sat with the other Weasleys, with friends and a few coworkers who came by. Early the second day Neville arrived. He looked absolutely terrified. But he only stayed until the moment she regained consciousness. As soon as she stirred, he made excuses and slipped out the door.

"Ginny?" Molly leaned over her daughter and rested a gentle hand on her forehead. "Ginny, can you hear me?"

Ginny moaned, turned her head, opened a bleary eye and moaned again. She struggled to wake for several minutes. When finally her eyes focused, she said, "Why isn't Harry in here?"

Molly gave a sympathetic sigh. "We've tried to find him, love. No one's at his house."

"He's here," Ginny groaned.

"Here at St. Mungo's?" asked Draco.

"Yeah, he's hurt. That's why I got hit. I was distracted by his injuries. I think he's mostly healed now, but he got knocked out by the curse that hit me at Gringotts."

Her eyes unfocused for a minute and then she smiled. Draco knew _that_ look. She was talking to Harry through their bond.

"Where is he?" he murmured. Then, to hide his true intentions, he added, "I'll bring him to you."

Ginny's eyes unfocused again before she said, "First floor. He's in a private room at the very end of the hall."

"I'll be right back," said Draco calmly. He swept from the room quietly, then stormed down the corridor. He was a veritable hurricane of fury by the time he reached the first floor. He slammed into the room at the end of the hall and only paused to make sure it was Harry in the bed before he started ranting.

"_What the bleeding fuck is your problem, Potter?!_"

A witch who'd been sitting quietly in the corner was on her feet in an instant, wand trained at Draco's heart.

"This is a private room," she intoned dangerously. "You get out of here now."

Draco ignored her, though he moved no closer to Harry's bed. "Ginny could have been killed because of you!" he snapped. "_This. Ends. Now._"

"I said Get Out." Mala stepped forward, her eyes flashing.

Draco spread his arms as he stepped forward as well, coming nose to nose with the witch. His arms were wide; his wand was tucked securely against his chest. Staring straight into her eyes, he said to Harry, "Potter, tell your bodyguard that I've had my cock in your arse and I have no intention of leaving until I've said my piece."

Mala flushed bright red, but didn't waver her position until Harry said, "It's okay. Let him be."

Mala lowered her wand, but she didn't back away. Draco respected how she refused to be intimidated by him despite his best efforts.

"Would you like some privacy?" she asked Harry while still holding eye contact with Draco.

"Please," he said.

She gave him one last look to confirm his answer by his facial expression, then quitted the room without another word. Draco turned on Harry immediately.

"You want to be a bounty hunter, run all over the world and put your life in danger at every step. Well, you don't get to do that anymore, _Potter_. It's not just your life. _It has not EVER_ been just your life!"

"Draco—"

"If you die, Ginny dies too, right?"

"I—"

"_Right?!_"

Harry nodded. He looked like hell in a hospital bed, and this after two days of healing. No wonder Ginny was distracted by his pain.

"Then you may not do this anymore," growled Draco. "You may not do _anything_ that might put your physical body in danger _ever again._ You didn't get killed this time, but you distracted Ginny in the middle of a duel and she was almost killed because of it. This ends now."

"You think it's just that easy," Harry hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

The end table started to tremble. Draco looked at his ex long and hard. It was obvious the man was upset. Fury and guilt was written all over his face. Of course he felt the blame for what happened to Ginny, that much was clear. But why would he hold to this life he led? Why wouldn't he stop it?

"What I know is that you almost killed your twin," said Draco.

The lamp on the bedside table exploded. Draco didn't flinch. Harry swallowed hard.

"It ends now, Harry. This is no way to live."

Harry turned away from Draco's scrutiny. "You don't know what you're talking about," he whispered again.

"Then _you_ figure it out. This ends now, Harry. You do what you have to do to get your life in order. If not for your sake, then for Ginny's. Whatever _this is_ that you've been doing since the war… finish it."

Draco left the room, but his sentiment remained. And he was right. Whatever it was that was going on, Harry had to finish it. He had to fix it. By any means necessary.

Whatever it took.

XIXIX

XIX

X

**A/N: **Coming up next chapter, we got angst and answers, just like I promised. We're right at the crux of it. And Snape will be back in two chapters. And there are… mmm… maybe five or six chapters left.

Thanks for sticking around so long. Thanks to my readers, and thanks to my reviewers. Like I've said before, I reply to all signed reviews… so if you want a response, just make sure you're logged in.

Peace, tangledhair.


	29. Future, Present, and Past

X

XIX

XIXIX "Future, Present, and Past" XIXIX

On the 30th of December, Hermione had a strange feeling that she couldn't quite sort through. She had meditated, she had tried tea leaves... hell, she had looked into a crystal ball. But the truth remained just out of her Sight, threatening and foreboding. Whatever this feeling indicated, it was big. Of that much, Hermione was certain.

She thought back to the morning of the Final Battle, when she had placed her tea cup aside without pressing for the totality of truth. She would never do that again. And she had accepted her power. She had to do this.

She had to do this.

Staring out her window at the nearly full moon, Hermione pressed three small buttons into her mouth, one after the other, and waited. She looked around her quarters. Eventually, the room around her began to take on an otherworldly quality. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, and leaned against the window ledge, her eyes trained on the moon above her. It was a clear night. If she tried hard enough, she thought she just might be able to look into infinity.

And then she nearly did.

Some time later, Hermione came to laying on her floor, thoughts and visions echoing in her brain.

_Get Remus, get Remus… Wake Up!_

The candles in the wall sconces were burning low. Several had gone out. She glanced to the window; she looked about the room. She thought back over the places she'd been, the visions she had experienced and a well of dread rose up within her.

_Oh God..._

XIXIX

Harry was playing mind games. Again. Just as he had done, off and on, for years now. Years. The mess of his life had held him prisoner for years. But Draco was right. He had to fix it. Even if he, himself, was too far gone to be worth saving, he had to do this for Ginny.

So how could he save himself?

Though he could not quite think about it without being overcome with pain, Harry was aware that the last time he came up with a plan to save himself (go to Dumbledore), the plan had not worked (Dumbledore was mysteriously killed). He could not involve anyone else in this rescue mission.

_If Dumbledore fell to it, no one else could possibly..._

He clutched at his hair, pulling fistfuls of it at his temples. The pain was horrific. He never could get used to it. It seemed worse each time, always just beyond the extent of his tolerance.

He couldn't think about this. He couldn't help himself. And he couldn't tell anyone. Hell, he couldn't even _intend_ to tell anyone as far as he knew. But what if...

The mind games he'd been playing these past years... he could think about what was happening to him as long as he only thought about it indirectly. What if...? What if he didn't try to enlist anyone's help? What if he didn't try at all, but someone managed to figure it out on their own? Could he possibly leave enough round-about hints to his plight that someone else, someone who could think about things directly, could figure out a way to save him?

_Of course, I would never do this,_ he thought. _It would never work anyway. There is no point. There is no one who could help me._

Certainly not the person who lived with him. Certainly not the person who watched his weird behavior upon his many returns after his many mysterious absences. She would never be able to figure out what was happening. And she would never be able to help him. Mala Suerte could not save him at all.

Harry was comforted as he thought of all of this, knowing in his heart that his heart did not believe his head. His heart believed he had found the answer. He need only leave enough round-about clues for Mala Suerte to figure out that something was wrong, and that Harry needed her help.

And Harry already knew how to play mind games, how to think in round-about ways. How much more difficult could it be to leave indirect hints about for his roommate?

XIXIX

"Hey, Mala," he said as casually as possible. He wouldn't want to let anything slip, after all. He had been thumbing through a novel on the couch for most of the day, waiting for her to come home from her afternoon outing with Ryan. It occurred to Harry to be curious if Mala wanted out of their living arrangement so that she could pursue other paths with her boyfriend, but he didn't ask. Not yet. If this worked (and he carefully did not think about what 'this' was), he would give her the damn house and pay for the wedding.

"Hey, Harry. Are you hungry? I can whip something up before I go."

"Go? You just got back."

Mala paused and looked in on him. He never made small talk like this. She knew something was up. He'd have to cover his tracks.

"I mean, I don't want to keep you or anything. You're free of course to do whatever you want whenever... er..." Harry shut himself up from babbling, but not before a good healthy dose of blushing. "Sorry," he said, and went back to thumbing through his book.

"No, it's fine," she said, coming in to sit with him. She looked at him frankly. "Are you okay? I don't mean to pry, of course, it's just since St. Mungo's you've been acting..."

_'Like a lunatic,_' he thought.

"...differently. It's just, if there's something I can get for you for your recovery, or something I can do... I mean, Harry I basically owe you my life with how you've kept my dad's house for me. I don't want you to feel like you've been a burden or anything when I take care of you. There's really nothing I wouldn't happily do. Just name it and it's done."

She smiled at him cheerfully and Harry revised in his head all the many, many, numerous wonderful things he was going to do for Mala if he ever got his life sorted out. _And_ he would make sure to befriend her properly — get to know her and let her get to know him. He was wistful at the thought of it. But right now, he needed to focus.

"Well, there is one thing," he said.

She nodded purposefully.

"Name it."

"I want you to... to have this information." He handed her a parchment he'd prepared that morning. "It's contact information... apparation and floo destinations, names and relationships of all the people I've been close to."

Mala's smile faltered. He'd counted on that. She would think he was giving her the information of who to contact in the unfortunate incidence of his untimely death. Which would serve his purpose, if he was purposefully misleading her into thinking that's why he was giving it to her. _Because there is no other reason for me to give her this information_, he thought to himself.

"Harry, I..."

"Draco you met in the hospital. Also, I have a twin. A magical twin. If something happens to me and she manages to survive it, she has the right to know the details. And I also have another bondmate. His name is Severus Snape and he's a real piece of work. He scares most people to death, but I want to stress this to you, if you go to him about me, there is absolutely nothing he wouldn't do... he would move heaven and earth for me."

Harry paused to smile fondly on this, reminiscing on a time he could place himself firmly in the care of this torrent of unconditional affection.

Later. This could work. He could have it back again...

"And he's good with financial arrangements. He worked with Draco trying to get his inheritance straightened out. Anyway, he'll make sure the house is put in your name. Also, you met Hermione. She's brilliant and she knows absolutely everything about me... well, everything up until a few years ago. Any facts or information that's missing if... something happens... well, Hermione can put it together. She could figure out anything."

"Harry," she tried again, but he held up his hand to stop her. She looked pained, but he had to finish this if it were going to work.

"Remus is unavailable at the full moon. But he's like a father to me. And he, too, would do anything... anything at all." He took a deep breath. He knew she believed this was in case of his death, but he had to cement that idea firmly in her mind (while also, hopefully, peaking her curiosity so that she might contact anyone on this list _even before_ his untimely death.

"I just... St. Mungo's really scared me, you know? I like to fancy myself invulnerable, but I'm clearly not. And there's a lot of things in my life I don't have any control over. I never know where I'm going to be or what I'm going to be doing. And sometimes bad things happen and I don't know why."

He was careful to keep his words vague enough that he could say them without the pain ripping through his head and scattering his thoughts. But he knew that she would catch his references, or at least that she would think she was catching his references. He only hoped it made her curious enough to do a little sneaking about with this contact list he was giving her.

"Just... if something happens," he phrased it this way so that she could infer that he meant his death, or anything else she wanted to infer it to mean, "you can contact these people and they'll help take care of things. Okay?"

Mala nodded soberly. She looked a little pale and he thought her eyes looked a little on the red-rimmed side. He would give them a year-long honeymoon to anywhere in the world they wanted to go.

"I'll take care of it," she said. "I'll... Harry, can I ask you a question?"

Feeling extraordinarily indebted to her, and rather fond of her as well, Harry agreed to something he had previously avoided like the plague. Questions. It was a terrible mistake, but in this very moment, his guard was down and he didn't realize exactly how dangerous was this game he was playing.

"Sure."

"Don't you want me to just contact them now? I mean, it's obvious that you love them, and you're clearly struggling with something. I really think your friends could help you with whatever it is that's going on."

Mala only had the best intentions when she said this. But Harry had struggled to create this conversation in such a way that he would not have to think about any of those things. He had been trying to help himself while simultaneously protecting her from himself. But Mala Suerte unwittingly brought everything to the forefront of Harry's mind. And whatever was causing the mess in his life clamped down on his consciousness and took over everything.

Harry felt the single most horrific pain slice through his head. When he came to, he was laying on the couch drenched in blood. In his right hand, he held a quill. On his chest was a piece of parchment, soggied and reddened and sticking to the slick ooze that covered him. He glanced around in the befuddlement he always experienced when he came to after 'leaving'. Then he peeled the parchment off of his chest and read it.

_**Harry Potter, you killed Mala Suerte Radinavich**_.

Harry heaved, leaned over the side of the couch and vomited. The letter was written in his own handwriting.

He stumbled to his feet and looked around the room. Not only was Mala dead, she was ripped apart in a manner Harry had not seen since his sixth year when he had a vision of Severus being tortured by Voldemort with his entrails strung about the Death Eater hideout. Her hollowed body was limp on the floor in a pool of guts and blood and death. Harry fell to his knees and pulled her corpse into his arms.

"Jesus, no. Mala, oh god. Merlin. Fucking hell. Bloody fucking hell, what have I done?! No. No! Oh, god forgive me. Mala, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

He sat on his knees, rocking her corpse for an eternity, sobbing into her lifeless body. He had done this to her. And it didn't matter if he had had no control over the exact actions that had killed her. He knew he had done this to her because he had tried to enlist her help in saving him from _the mess_... from whatever it was that was controlling him. He had known he was playing with her life when he gave her the contacts list. He had just thought he could play it safe. And in the end, he hadn't thought she would actually die if his plan didn't work. He had been so naive.

Eventually, Harry went back to the letter he had written to himself. He read it silently, his heart thudding in his chest. He was murderer. He would always be a murderer.

_**You killed her because you were trying to save yourself. Just like you killed Dumbledore. Just like you will kill anyone you go to for help. You cannot stop yourself from doing this. You must obey the plan that has been laid out for you, or everyone in your life will suffer. **_

_**No one is safe from me.**_

As soon as Harry read the final word, he blacked out again. This time, when he came to he was in his bed, in a clean set of clothes. All traces of Mala's blood had been removed from his person. He stood and stumbled into the living room, searching for her body so he could bury her properly. But she was gone. There was no blood. There were no signs that she had ever been there.

Harry noticed immediately that something else was different about the house, but it took him awhile to place exactly what was wrong. Mala's personal items were gone. There were no pictures, no trinkets, no knicknacks. He ran into her bedroom to find it no more personal than a guest room. Mala Suerte had been erased from his home.

Harry tore out of the house and apparated directly to the pub in the village where Ryan worked. Ryan, at least, had to know that Mala was dead. Even though Harry knew he could not tell him what had really happened (lest he wind up killing Ryan too), he had to let him know so that he could mourn his lost love. It was only right.

He slammed into the pub. The bartender and customers all turned to look at him. The bartender was not Ryan. He was not someone that Harry recognized.

"Where's Ryan?" he panted.

The bartender shook his head, and then motioned for Harry to come closer. Once Harry was standing directly before him, the bartender spoke in low tones so the other customers could not hear their conversation.

"You a friend of his?"

"Yeah."

The bartender shook his head again and sighed. "Good kid, Ryan. Never caused any problems. No conflicts, no arguments. I can hardly believe it myself."

Harry tried hard not to choke. "Believe what?"

"He got into a scuffle last night, just as he was leaving the bar."

"Last night," Harry repeated blankly. He wondered what day it was. Had he lost a day in all of this? He saw a newspaper lying uselessly on an abandoned table and summoned it to himself. He _had_ lost a day. It was December 30th.

"Poor bastard took a bad _Obliviate_. I think the spell malfunctioned. I can't imagine anyone would end a fight trying to erase the other guy's complete effin' memory."

"His memory?"

"Couldn't even remember his own name, I tell you. It's no way to end a fight, I don't care what you were fighting over. I think the wizard responsible screwed it up and ran for it. I just can't believe someone would do that on purpose. Not to Ryan, of all people."

"Christ." Harry ran a hand over his face. He _Obliviated_ Ryan too. Likely so the man would never come looking for Mala. At least he was alive, but what sort of life was that if he couldn't even remember his own name?

"Do you happen to know his girlfriend?" asked the bartender.

Harry looked up sharply.

"We saw her around some," he continued, "but no one's even sure of what her name is. Anyway, if you could tell her..."

Harry nodded absently even as he was turning away and walking out the door. No one at the bar even knew her name. Harry was pretty sure she didn't have friends here other than Ryan. Her family was dead or estranged. There was no one left to mourn her passing. No one left to notice she was gone. No one left to come asking questions if she didn't turn up for awhile.

_I did this to her_, thought Harry. And he thought back to the final line of the letter he had written to himself. _No one is safe from me_.

XIXIX

The Ministry of Magic was closed for the holidays, a fact which a certain team of Aurors had every intention of exploiting. They had been planning the break-in for close to two months, working out every detail and contingency and determining exactly the moment they would lose the ability to abort the mission and walk away without a sentence in Azkaban or worse should they get caught. That exact moment was when Tonks and Kingsley entered the Minister's office looking for incriminating information regarding Dumbledore's death, the faked reports of his magitopsy, or Moody's disappearance. At that same moment, Ginny and Draco would be entering the Department of Mysteries to look for evidence that the Unspeakables had had something to do with the anomolies in the Hogwarts wards over the years leading up to Dumbledore's death.

Of course, Ginny and Draco had every intention of also trying to find out what Ron had been researching before his death while they were there. They were determined to find out if he had gotten into something dangerous that had caused the Department of Mysteries to decide he needed to be disappeared. It wasn't part of the Auror teams' unofficial investigation, but Ginny and Draco had both vowed to find out what had happened to Ron, and they weren't about to pass up this opportunity to snoop through the closed office.

They flooed into the atrium. Tonks had managed to discover the codes that would allow her to erase the records of their floo activity for the night, but only if she could get into the Floo Administrator's office within the next fifteen minutes before the record was automatically recorded to the archives. The four broke into their two separate teams as they hurried across the atrium to the elevators.

"Good luck," whispered Kingsley as he and Tonks stepped into the first elevator that arrived. Draco and Ginny nodded at him. The second elevator was only moments behind.

Knowing that time would be short, Draco and Ginny swept into the Department of Mysteries with a steadfast resolve of determination. There would be no time now to second guess. Now, they must do.

Inside the circular room with the doors, Ginny said, "Which is the door to the filing office?"

A door to their left swung open. Draco raised his eyebrows and hurried through. They found themselves in a typical-looking shared office, scattered with desks and filing cabinets.

"I'll take left," said Ginny, and headed directly to the nearest filing cabinet. She wrenched the top drawer open and immediately began thumbing through. Draco went right and shuffled through the desk nearest the door. They systematically searched their way across the room. Draco got stalled at one cabinet toward the back. It was heavily warded, locked up so tight it took him nearly ten minutes and every trick he knew just to get the top drawer open. When he finally heard a satisfying _click_, he turned to look over his shoulder with a grin. Ginny was standing at a desk at the far wall.

"Find anything?" he asked.

"This was Ron's desk," she said flatly. "It looks like they've been sorting through his research." She was rifling through the drawers. "Some of it's missing, but a lot of it is still here."

"Anything good?"

"Dark creatures... magical creatures... all the same stuff he'd been on about since his seventh year."

"Grab whatever you can," said Draco, turning back to the filing cabinet he was at. He looked inside the previously heavily warded drawer and froze at the synchronicity. He called out, "Magical creatures, you said?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Anything on control magic?"

"No... there's a Dark magic book—it's heavily marked; it must have been important to him—but it's on the history of Dark creatures experimentation... and a whole mess of stuff about Tremor Moles. 'Mione said he'd gone to the Burrow the day before he disappeared looking for information about the Tremor Moles."

Draco nodded. "Which brings us back to _Harry_." He held up a file with Harry's name on it. He thumbed it open and the contents began to pour onto the floor. The thin file had concealed within in years of reports and information.

Ginny shrunk and pocketed as much as she thought necessary from Ron's desk, then headed over to Draco. He was just shoving the last of the papers back into the file when Ginny peered into the top drawer.

"Oh Merlin," she choked, reaching in. Draco stood up hastily to see his partner pull a small gold locket out of the drawer. On the front was the Flamel family crest. Above that was fused a diamond and emerald set. Two thin tendrils of gold were worked down the sides.

"I know that locket," Draco whispered. "Harry was never without it. He wouldn't even take it off in the shower."

"Nicolas and Perenelle gave it to him for protection. Why is it in a filing cabinet in the Department of Mysteries?"

"In a filing cabinet filled with information about controlling magical creatures?" Draco added.

"Controlling magical creatures," Ginny repeated. "And Tremor Moles from Ron. Oh Gods."

"Harry's magic is part snake. Tremor Moles could control him."

"They've been experimenting on my twin," Ginny rasped. "Ron found something and they... I'm gonna be sick."

Her knees went weak, but Draco caught her around the waist. "Oh, no you don't. You want to find out what they're doing, what they've done... you hold it together and keep searching. We won't get another chance, Ginny. Get it together."

She nodded, straightening herself. She gulped loudly, and Draco tried to imagine that she that she was just swallowing nerves and not the contents of her stomach. They went back to the filing cabinet, shrinking and confiscating anything and everything with Harry's name on it or any mention of control or magical creatures. Then Draco went to work on opening the second drawer.

While he worked on the wards, Ginny glanced through one of the last reports she had pulled out. It was dated two years back, and signed...

"This is signed by Angela Diamond."

Draco looked up. "Isn't that—?"

"The bitch who recruited Ron. Did she use him to get to Harry? Or did she notice Ron because she was already working on Harry? Holy Hera, Draco, this one's signed by Fudge!"

"Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit..."

Draco broke into a sweat as something tripped in the wards on the filing cabinet, waving his wand in a fevered attempt to break through before he set them off completely. But it was too late. In the next moment, a deafening alarm split through the room. It seemed to echo throughout the whole building.

Ginny and Draco stared at each other in horror.

In the next moment, Draco was on his feet, shoving against his partner as they ran to the door.

"Ginny, go!" he shouted, but they both knew it was too late.

They were caught.

XIXIX

_Get Remus, get Remus, get Remus..._

Hermione stumbled out of her quarters and bolted through the halls of Durmstrang. She reached Remus' door and began pounding against it, frantic and terrified. A moment later (though it seemed much longer to Hermione), Remus opened the door. He was still in his robes, though it was late. His eyes were tinged with yellow and he had the haunted, prowling look that typified the night preceding the full moon.

"We have to go help them," Hermione panted. "If we don't get them out of there, they're dead."

"Who?" he asked.

"We have to go, now!" and she turned to rush off down the hall.

Remus didn't hesitate. He drew his wand and followed the Seer out into the night.

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: So, yay! I wrote a novel in November with National Novel Writing Month (www . nanowrimo . org). My super-happy goal is to finish Ties That Bind during my winter break. I love it, but I'm tired of carrying it with me. So please hit the review button down below and offer a bit of moral support in that. More exciting things ahead. Sev (finally) makes another appearance next chapter, and... well, exciting stuff.

And sorry about killing Mala Suerte. I did love that girl, but, well, given her name she really couldn't have a happy ending.


	30. Rescue Mission

X

XIX

XIXIX "Rescue Mission" XIXIX

The alarms split through the air like deafening madness. Ginny and Draco slammed their way out of the office and into the hallway outside the Department of Mysteries.

"They'll be watching the elevators," Draco said.

"There are emergency stairs in the back," Ginny said, pushing him along. "Dad had to take them for months when someone jinxed the elevator not to go to his floor."

Draco paused and Ginny kept running past him, grabbing a fistful of his robes to drag him with her as she went by. But Draco held firm so Ginny ground to a stop.

"Come on!"

"I've got an idea." He pulled out a sheet of parchment from the files they had just confiscated, glanced over it quickly to make sure it was nothing of consequence, and then tapped it with his wand. Immediately it folded itself into a paper airplane and sailed off to the elevators, bouncing against the button and then hovering.

A moment later, one of the doors _ding_ed and opened. The airplane flew in.

Now Draco grabbed Ginny's robes and they hurtled themselves down the hall toward the stairs in the back.

"I charmed it to go to every floor," he explained. "They won't know where in the building we are."

Once at the stairs, Ginny and Draco began running up. A few steps in, Ginny cast Silencing Charms on their feet — they were making such a racket, and their footsteps echoed all the way up and down the cavernous stairwell. Now moving silently, they shot up the steps, peering up from time to time to see if anyone was on the upper flights.

They made it up two flights when Ginny looked up in time to see a Hex rocketing their way. She slammed herself bodily into Draco, knocking them both out of the way. They flattened themselves against the wall, but they had been seen.

"Oh, shoot! Sorry, it's us!"

It was Tonks. She and Kingsley appeared, running down the stairs and lifting Disillusionment Charms as they closed in.

"Can't go up this way," said Kingsley. "Aurors are here. They're coming down."

"We can't use the elevators... we'll be sitting ducks."

"Is there any other way?"

Ginny opened her mouth, but was cut off when the Aurors just about caught up to them. Fortunately, the one who threw the first hex had terrible aim. The wall two feet behind Ginny exploded. The four renegade Aurors jumped down the next flight and forced their way into the eighth floor.

Immediately they were assaulted by flying golden snitches and well over a dozen bludgers. These bludgers, however, were spelled so they bounced lightly off of the intruders, the office furniture, and the walls. Draco swatted one out of the way.

"I hate this floor," he said.

"You love this floor," said Ginny, who was busy barricading the door with office furniture.

"How are we going to get out of here?" said Tonks. "We can't apparate, can't use the stairs or the elevators."

"Maybe one of the offices has an outside floo," said Kingsley, already running down the hallways, sticking his head into the offices of the higher ups in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Interior office floos are locked over the holidays," said Ginny. "Everyone has to come in through the atrium."

"Portkey?" He was helping Ginny and Tonks create the barricade, casting every manner of warding and locking spell they could think of on the pile of furniture that blocked the door from the stairs.

"Traceable from inside the Ministry. We may get away, but we'll still be caught."

"All this for nothing!" snapped Ginny.

"Not nothing. We found files," hissed Tonks. "Conversations transcripts... secret meetings. Something terrible has been going on."

"Worse than that," added Kingsley. "They've been developing some sort of weapon. We don't know for sure what — didn't have a chance to get through everything before the alarm sounded — but it's something to do with Magical Creatures, some synthesis of powers."

"It's Harry." Ginny was seething. "They've been experimenting on my twin — using _his_ magic against his will!"

"My gods," said Tonks, going quite still. "He's the one from the Gringotts attack… and all those others. We thought it might be a new Dark Lord…"

Kingsley looked bleak. "If they've got control of Harry, we're doomed."

Draco shook his head emphatically. "No. We'll set him free. We just have to figure out how. Did you get all the records?"

"Yeah," said Tonks. "It looks like they've been keeping everything as a means of blackmailing everyone involved."

Kingsley nodded. "No one can duck out of the arrangement or they'll be implicated. Keeps everyone quiet."

"We've got to get out of here or we'll never have a chance to blow the lid on this thing. What are our options?"

"They've got all escape routes covered. We'll just have to pick one and blast our way out."

"We're well outnumbered."

"But there's no choice. It's our only chance."

Just then, with the words still hanging in the air, the wall beside Draco exploded in, forgoing the well-blocked doorway. The four renegade Aurors were hurled out of the way. They pulled themselves to their feet, wands held at the ready as the smoke and dust cleared.

They were completely surrounded.

"Told you it would work, Bryde," said a cocky voice Draco and Ginny would know anywhere.

Smarte and Bryde, a half dozen Aurors, and another dozen shadowy figures inserted themselves onto the floor by way of the blasted wall.

"Ah, what have we here?" asked Bryde as he looked over the trapped crew. "Should have known our old classmates would be in on this little break in. And of course, Tonks and Kingsley. It will be a great tragedy, losing two such senior Aurors in tonight's attack."

"Tell us," continued Smarte, "how did you like our variation Regetere Hominum? I thought the Blasting Curse was a nice touch, don't you agree?"

"That's an illegal curse and you know it," snapped Ginny, livid at these "Aurors" and all they stood for. These shady methods were exactly the reason they were taking a stand.

"Oh, but it wasn't us..." said Smarte with a sickening faux-innocence. "It was the Death Eaters, who broke into the Ministry and killed four of our finest."

He stepped aside and Ginny felt her terror rise. For just a moment, she was back in the war, back in the Final Battle, half-dead and surrounded by Death Eaters, flashing back to her fourth year in the Ministry rescue mission to save Sirius... because here they were again. The shadowy figures behind the corrupt Aurors swept into the room, shrouded in full Death Eater regalia.

There were Death Eaters at the Ministry. And they were working with the Aurors.

Draco stared at the group that held them trapped and understood with perfectly clarity that his life was about to end. He felt strangely calm about it all, as his life flashed before him... his parents, the Slytherins, the Death Eaters, his godfather, Harry, Auror training with Ginny, and then Persephone…

Her image lingered in his mind and Draco felt a great well of regret in his heart that he hadn't married the witch. He would die and she would never even know why, and more to the point, she would never know that her plan to wait had worked. In these last moments of life, he realized with no small measure of surprise that he loved his fiancée. Harry had been right. He could be happy.

Or, could have been.

XIXIX

Harry tore his house apart, looking for any evidence — anything at all — to prove that Mala Suerte Radinivich had ever existed and had lived with him for over a year. At first, he was looking so that he could mourn her properly. After all, if Harry were the only person who remembered her, he wanted to remember her well in order to pay her proper homage. But as the hours wore on, he grew more and more frantic. With everything else that had happened in his life, Harry was no longer certain he was sane at all. He had possessed the Dark Lord and a Dementor, for gods' sakes! Who was to say that he hadn't just made the woman up?!

The more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed. A woman named Bad Luck who brought Harry some of the best luck during some of his worst times. And she took care of him asking nothing in return? Maybe she hadn't been real at all. Maybe she was just a phantom — a dream in this hell that Harry's life had become.

Did he kill a dream? Or had he killed a person?

Harry rifled through every item, every piece of paper, every bit of mail, every storage container, drawer and closet looking for something — anything — that proved Mala had been real, had been there for him, had been murdered by him.

But he found nothing.

It was too much. After everything he had been through, this maddening uncertainty proved to be his undoing.

It was worse than the Final Battle, when Voldemort had split himself into three persons, all of whom were assaulting Harry's sanity. It was worse than possessing the Dementor, and administering the Kiss to Voldemort as he stood helpless to resist. It was worse than being separated from Ginny when she was under the Cruciatus by her brother.

Because with all of this in his past, followed by years of pain and blackouts and a complete lack of control over his destiny... the life of Harry Potter added up to mountains of pain, uncertainty, and desperation. And now he wasn't sure if his roommate had been real, much less whether he had murdered her.

Harry went mad. His brain seemed to just fall apart inside his skull. He could no longer control his thoughts or make sense of his ideas. He was mad. And he didn't care anymore. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted someone to take care of him, fix all of this, soothe him until it was all better. He wanted Severus to fix this for him. He wanted Severus.

In between the pain and the blackness that followed, _that_ was Harry's one driving thought, _'I want Severus. Go to Severus. Get to Severus. He'll fix everything_.'

When Harry came to, he on the streets of Hogsmeade. He didn't spare a thought to wonder how he'd gotten there or what had happened since he left his home outside of Prague. He had to get to Severus.

The Hogwarts wards admitted him without hesitation, and Harry rushed up the drive, pushed through the main entrance, and practically ran through the halls and down the stairs in search of his bondmate. He ignored the serpent guardian completely, instead pounding his fists against the door, calling Severus' name.

The door was flung open and Harry fell against the man in his dressing robes that stood just within. He wrapped his arms around Severus' waist and clung to him, terrified and confused and so, so relieved to be here again. Sev would fix everything.

But Severus stood stiff in his grasp.

"Back again?" he asked coldly. "And what do you have to say this time?"

"What?"

Severus extracted himself from Harry's grip and stared him down angrily. Then he threw up his hands and began to pace the room.

"Look, Harry, it's late and I'm tired. And I'm _tired_. I'm so tired of all of this. I can't keep doing this, back and forth with you. You come in here, you give me a photograph of some girl... then you're back again two hours later! I don't know what to do with you anymore! What do you want? What can I do? Are you insane? Are you in trouble? Tell me what I can do for you... just tell me something, Harry. Tell me."

Harry stared at him, trying to make sense of what his bondmate was saying, trying to make sense of anything at all that was going through his head. Finally, one fact pushed itself to the forefront of his mind.

"I gave you a photograph?" he said.

"Yes! What? Do you want it back?" Severus was yelling now, his anger verging on hysteria. He looked an awful lot like Harry felt. Harry wondered briefly what he must look like, as crazy as his thoughts were in this moment.

"Let me see it."

Snape gaped at him. "Seriously?! That's what you came back here for? Fine. Fine!"

He stormed out of the front room. Harry didn't move a muscle, waiting for this photograph, this potential proof that he was not crazy, had not made up his roommate, had not simply killed an illusion.

_Is it better to be a murderer?_

Harry wasn't sure.

But then Severus was back, holding a framed photograph of Mala Suerte Radinavich. Harry took it in shaking hands, stepped back against the wall and looked up to the ceiling, choking back relief that his sanity was proven, grief that he had killed someone who had only been kind to him.

_I am a murderer_, he thought.

Mala grinned up at him and waved happily.

"I need a drink," he said.

"That makes two of us," said Severus. He scrubbed his hands over his face. "Rum?"

Harry nodded absently as he looked at the photograph. He had a terrible feeling of déjà vu as he stared at it. There was something familiar here that tugged at his memory, but he couldn't quite place it. As Severus went off to fix them drinks, Harry turned the frame over. Not knowing why he was drawn to do this, Harry opened up the frame and slipped the photograph out of its bindings. And then he saw it.

There on the back of the photograph was a message in his own handwriting.

_**Severus will be next if you persist in this. You will kill them all if you try to get them to help you. No one is safe from me**_.

Harry slid the picture back into its frame and sealed it shut once more.

He had to get out of here before he wound up killing Severus. Severus could not help him. No one could. Harry was trapped forever, and like Devil's Snare, the harder he struggled the worse it got. He had killed Mala, and he would kill anyone else whose help he tried to enlist. He had to get out of here. He had to...

"Harry?"

Harry looked up in panic. Severus had returned with their drinks. Harry had to get out of there. He had gotten at least part of what he came here for — an assurance of his sanity. But safety was not available here, and certainly not for Severus if Harry stayed. He had to get out of here.

XIXIX

"What, we're going to _floo_ there?! Hermione, that's crazy!"

Hermione closed her eyes and swayed on her feet where she stood. For a moment, Remus thought she was gone completely from this reality, consumed again by whatever Sight was driving this rescue mission of theirs. But then her eyes snapped back open and her eyes were so _present_ that Remus went very still underneath her gaze.

"In the atrium, they're watching the elevators. If we go now, we can catch them with their backs to us. Stun, Confund or Obliviate, Remus. We don't want any casualties in this raid."

He nodded blankly, and then Hermione was stepping into the floo and spinning away from him. He had no choice but to follow. By the time he stepped into the atrium of the British Ministry of Magic, two Aurors were on the floor and one was trying to walk but kept bumping face-first into a wall.

"Hermione—"

She didn't look up. "Behind you!"

Remus turned on his heel and shot off Stunning spells at the two figures that had been trying to sneak up on him. They collapsed, their wands raised uselessly as they fell. Remus placed his hand over his heart and sucked in his breath.

"Oh my gods," he said, staring at the robes and masks that lay in heaps before him.

"They're not real Death Eaters," Hermione told him. "Now come on. There are two more contingents. One is in the Department of Mysteries right now. The other is..." she closed her eyes again and Remus could see them shooting back and forth rapidly beneath her lids. "trying to enter the eighth floor. They'll have Ginny and Draco trapped soon. There's not much time."

She dragged him into the elevators. "They won't be watching the elevators right now," she explained. "These guys are supposed to be."

He nodded. "Eighth floor," he said, but Hermione spoke over him.

"Ninth floor."

"But..."

"They're fine for now. We've got to _Confund_ the people in the Department of Mysteries. Remus, we must _Confund_ this group. It'll buy us the most time. _Confund_ all of them."

"Okay," he agreed, not understanding, but unwilling to argue with someone who clearly knew a lot more than he did.

They stepped out of the elevator to find the hallway empty. Hermione grabbed his sleeve and dragged him down the hallway, mimicking Draco and Ginny's movements earlier in the night. She swung the door open wide and without caution and the two stepped into the circular room that served as an entrance into the Department of Mysteries.

She closed the door behind them and the wall spun around, confusing the doors.

"Which...?"

Hermione placed her finger to her lips and Remus fell silent. She closed her eyes, swaying on her feet once more, then tiptoed to a door on their left. She gingerly placed her hand on the knob, then whispered, "_Confund_ them all."

But when she opened the door, she did so slowly and silently, sliding it open only a crack. Voices from within the room washed out to them.

"This is a total cock-up!" snapped a woman's voice.

"They got everything," thundered a man. "They'll expose us."

"Do we know who is behind this?" and Remus had to cover his mouth to keep from crying out. It was Minister Fudge.

"There's no telling," said the woman. "_Our_ people are all under control. You've been cracking down on dissidents... who do you think it is?"

"Hem, hem. Certainly you are not suggesting that the Minister's people are involved somehow in this break-in? _Our _people are in the building right now tracking down the offenders. And I can assure you they will have no mercy."

"Of course not," said the man. "Angela was just saying... Oh, never mind. We need to get our Weapon in on this. If these people sent off any of the information already... he can get it back. He'll be ruthless."

Everyone was silent for a moment while Angela sent off a Patronus to someone in another location. Hermione held up her hand to Remus' chest, pressing him back and indicating they needed to wait just a while longer. From inside they could hear the sounds of people muttering as they rifled through drawers, variously cursing and arguing. Remus kept track of the number of different voices. There were at least seven people inside, more if any were standing silent guard.

A minute or so later, there was a flash of light, as a Patronus apparently appeared. A voice said, "No can do. Our Weapon is in first person contact with one of the bondmates. But I'll summon him as soon as he's free."

"Bugger!" snapped Angela. "We'll just have to..."

But in that moment, Hermione wrenched the door open and she and Remus shot off rapid-fire _Confunding_ spells into the unsuspecting room. Caught off guard, no one even raised their wands until they were all well and _Confunded_. Hermione and Remus then Stunned them all, just to be sure everyone was out of the action.

"The Weapon?" Remus asked.

"Harry," Hermione explained. "They've got control over him. Why didn't I See this before? Oh gods, to think of the hell he must have been going through."

"We can save him now," said Remus. "It sounds like the others got all the proof we'll need to shut this operation down."

Hermione looked around the room at the stunned individuals — Unspeakables, top Ministry officials, even that reporter Willa Raspberry. "This went all the way up," she said. "And I'm willing to bet some of the Aurors are in on this too."

"Where are the others?" Remus said. "Let's get them and get out of here."

Hermione closed her eyes, and a moment later, Remus heard an explosion from above.

"Bloody hell."

"That was... a variation on the _Regetere Hominum_," she whispered to herself, her eyes still closed. "How does it go?"

Whispering to herself, she began swirling her wand around in a variety of flourishes. Red sparks issued out from her wand, but fell useless as they extinguished. Remus stared on for several minutes while Hermione was lost in this trance. Then her eyes snapped open.

"Get behind me," she shouted.

Remus jumped to comply as Hermione raised her wand and shouted at the ceiling, "_Regetere Hominum Confringo!_"

The ceiling above and before them exploded and rubble rained down, combined with screaming bodies in Auror and Death Eater robes. Hermione and Remus were already firing off Stunners as they tried to regain themselves. A moment later, the enemies were firing back, along with five people who remained on the floor above. From the other side of the hole in the ceiling, Ginny, Draco, Kingsley and Tonks fired back at the remaining Death Eater Aurors, both on the eighth and ninth floors.

Hermione and Remus were side by side, engaging the last of them, when suddenly Hermione screamed, "No!"

She jumped in front of Remus even before one of the "Stunned" figures on the floor stopped feigning unconsciousness and whipped his wand around toward them. As if in slow motion, Remus saw Hermione's body fly in front of his. He saw the curse issue forth from the wand, directed straight at the Seer. He wrapped his arm around her torso, twisting so as to swing her body behind him. He took the curse right in his shoulder. Pain exploded forth and he saw his own blood fly past his face and onto the filing cabinet that stood open a few feet away.

He toppled, landing on top of the Seer, still holding her protectively beneath his much larger body. Underneath him, Hermione struggled.

"Remus? Remus, talk to me. Oh gods, tell me you're alive. I Saw him blast out your heart. Talk to me."

"Hermione," he groaned, and she shivered. His mind was still flooded with the pain he felt, but he could tell Hermione was crying and only wanted to reassure her. "It's okay."

Behind them, the renegade Aurors cleaned up the rest of the battle, and then swung themselves down to the ninth floor. Draco and Kingsley peeled Remus off of Hermione, being careful of his blasted shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"I Saw it," the Seer told her. "We had to rescue you. They would have killed you all, buried this information. We had to get you out of here."

"Thank gods for you, then," said Tonks. "But we got to get out of here. There's no telling how many more are in the building."

Hermione shook her head. "We got them already. The Aurors were not officially notified, so there shouldn't be any reinforcements coming here for awhile. But there _are others_, and they know there was a break-in tonight and they know what information was stolen. They'll be looking for us."

Tonks walked over and kicked Minister Fudge's unconscious body in his side. "Bastard. They had Dumbledore killed when complications arose with their _Weapon_" she spat the last word.

"That's my twin you're talking about," snapped Ginny.

"And they've been using him all this time. Those 'Death Eater' attacks happening everywhere that helped Fudge maintain his power through everyone's fear... Gods, Moody knew. That's why they disappeared him."

Draco clasped Ginny's shoulder. "We'll save him. We've got all the proof we need now."

But Hermione shook her head. "We've got to neutralize the threat first."

Ginny nodded. "They've got control of Harry. We've got to fix that before we can go public. We're no match against him. If he's still under their control, he'll destroy us all before we have a chance to blow the whistle on this thing."

Kingsley looked up from Remus. "If Dumbledore didn't stand a chance..."

"We need a plan," said Draco. "Hermione, do you know where Harry is? Do you know how much time we have?"

"Harry's at Hogwarts," said Ginny, searching inside herself through her bond to him. "Gods, he's right upset. He's got himself closed off to me pretty well, but not entirely. He's not under their control right now."

"He'll be leaving Hogwarts at any moment," said Hermione. "They'll have him as soon as he leaves Severus."

"Then we have to get him first!" Ginny bolted out of the room, with Draco on her tail.

XIXIX

"Harry, I know that look. Don't even think about leaving."

Harry shook his head, backing away from his bondmate and the drinks he carried.

"Stay and we can talk about this. Just have a drink with me. Tell me what you can. You know I'm here for you."

"I know, Sev, but..." but what?

_If I stay I'll wind up killing you_.

Pain sliced through his head and he knew he couldn't tell him that. He had to say something else, something definitive, something that would keep Severus out of his life forever.

"I hate you," he said.

But as much as he could tell the words stung his bondmate, he could also plainly see that his bondmate did not really believe them.

"I'm done with you," he continued. "I hate being your bondmate. You're holding me back. I want to break this bloody, stupid thing. I can't bear to be attached to you any longer!"

"Harry, you don't mean that. You're a terrible liar and anyway..."

"Just leave me the bloody fuck alone! I never want to see you again!"

Severus set their drinks on the mantel. "Whatever trouble you're in, I can help."

Harry panicked. He couldn't believe that. If he believed Severus could help him, he would black out and kill the man, and Harry didn't think he could bear to know he'd been responsible for the death of one of his bondmates.

"You're too weak!" he spat. "Too weak and too cold. Snivellus! You can't help me. You never could. Just stay the hell out of my life!"

Severus took another step forward and Harry couldn't believe how the man refused to be diverted. He hurtled the picture frame at him. It landed against his chest and fell to the floor.

"You won't see me again," Harry said, and he hurried out the door, slamming it behind him.

Severus stared at the door, confused and hurt and angry. His bondmate, always a troubled man, had clearly lost it completely. Severus didn't have the first idea as to what to do. He picked up the picture from the floor and stared down at it blankly.

This woman. This woman whom Harry had allowed into his life, while pushing Severus and everyone else out. What was he trying to tell him by giving him a picture of this woman?

A well of fury rose up within him and he brought his fist down into the glass that covered the smiling woman. She dove for cover as the glass shattered and the frame splintered and fell apart.

Severus stared at his now bloodied fist.

"Well that was stupid," he told himself.

He looked back down at the broken frame in his hands. The woman peered out from the edge of the picture. Severus grabbed the corner of the photograph and pulled it free from the frame. He flipped it over, thinking the girl's name might be written on the back. His eyes widened as he read the note written in Harry's handwriting.

"What the fuck—?"

Just then his fireplace flared to life and Ginny Weasley stumbled into his living room, followed shortly thereafter by Draco Malfoy.

"Where is he?!" screamed Ginny. "Oh gods, he's left. He's gone, he's gone!"

Severus stared at her in alarm, but knew immediately what she meant. Harry was closed off entirely through their bond. When he had left Severus' quarters, he had '_left_' completely.

"What is going on here?" he demanded.

But Ginny fell to her knees, panting and sobbing. Draco practically fell on top of her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"It's okay," he said. "We'll get him back. It's okay."

"Dumbledore couldn't stop him," she choked, trying and failing to catch her breath.

"We'll find a way," Draco said, looking up at Severus, who still didn't know what the bloody fuck was happening.

"Somehow."

XIXIX

XIX

X

A/N: Hp-lexicon says the atrium is likely on the eighth floor, but I'm disagreeing for no reason except I feel like it. In my story, the atrium is on top, the other floors below. For the sake of narrative, I have therefore moved the Department of Magical Games and Sports down one level from seven to eight. I didn't bother changing any of the other things, because it doesn't really matter. I just needed there to be _something_ one floor above the Department of Mysteries.

Yeah, I threw in Umbridge just for fun. It's not important to the story that she has made an appearance… I just recently saw HP5 again in the dollar theatre and was reminded how much I hate her. She's just awesome that way. (By they way, that actress just nailed that role! As did Luna's actress. Love them both.)

Anyway, next chapter will hopefully be up quite soon. Thanks to you all for sticking with me this far. This story will be wrapping up shortly.

Peace,

kati


	31. Coming Undone

X

XIX

XIXIX "Coming Undone" XIXIX

Kingsley came through next, followed shortly thereafter by Tonks. He surveyed the situation — Ginny pulling herself together from near-hysterics, Draco reassuring her and keeping his godfather's questions at bay — and understood immediately what had happened and what must happen next. They must keep to their safety plan.

"We cannot stay here," he said. "We've been compromised."

"Hermione said they _Befuddled_ and _Confunded_ everyone," said Tonks.

Draco nodded, agreeing with both of them. "But they have Harry." He looked down at the twin of the Ministry's secret Weapon. "We're compromised."

That was all it took for Ginny to pull herself together. Panic and grief at what those monsters were doing to her twin and her inability to stop them, her inattention to it for all this time, very quickly gave way to stoic maneuvering. They had a plan if the break-in went off without a hitch. They had a back-up plan if they ran into problems but their identities remained uncompromised. They had a safety plan if any or all of them escaped with their identities known. This was the plan they must enact now.

"Our main objective," she said to herself as much as to everyone else, "Is to scatter this information."

Tonks set her mouth in a straight line. "Our lives are forfeit," she agreed. "But thank Merlin we found the truth first."

"We've got to split up," said Kingsley. "Prearranged safe locations where this information will be found if any or all of us are killed."

"Copies," said Draco. "We have time to replicate all of this, which is more than we could have hoped for. Then we've got to go." He turned to his godfather. "Gods, I'm so sorry, Severus, to have brought this into your living room. I can _Obliviate_ you when we leave. You'll be safe from Ministry interrogation. They won't disappear you; they'll know you weren't a party to all of this."

But Severus shook his head. "I don't know what's going on," he said. "But I want a fifth copy of everything. I can replicate it and secure it a dozen times throughout Hogwarts and a dozen more times outside. I have people."

Draco and Severus stared at each other, understanding the gravity of this tenuous situation, and feeling the past behind them, pulling them in a dozen different directions as well. They had fought throughout their lives — _gods had they fought!_ — and Harry had come between them more times than once... but they were bound together by something stronger even than the magical bonds that held Harry to Severus and Ginny. And nothing, not the Dark Lord, not the senior Malfoys, not the War, not even the love of Harry Potter had ever been enough to rend asunder the ties that bound these men to each other. And here they were, again, at the end of everything, and again they stood together.

Draco took two bold steps forward and threw his arms around his godfather's chest. Severus embraced him, warmly, firmly, briefly. They stepped apart and got to work.

The four renegade Aurors spread the information out and replicated it, dispersed it, shrunk it to manageable levels, all while explaining to Severus what they had found and what would have to happen next. Severus didn't like it.

"If we know it's Harry, we've got to go get him. He won't hurt Ginny or I... except..." even as he said it he remembered the note in Harry's handwriting on the back of the photograph of Harry's roommate. And now he understood what it meant. He pulled out the photograph and showed it to the others.

"Harry _would_ kill me if it came to it. He couldn't kill Ginny without killing himself, not unless he tore their bond apart first. And now that I think about it, I have no doubt that he could. The only reason he hasn't yet is that we've never pushed. Yet."

"Yet," agreed Ginny. "We will get Harry, but you're right. He could kill us all, and if he's not under his own control, he couldn't stop himself from it. Hell, we have proof that he killed _Dumbledore_. If Dumbledore didn't have a chance..."

"We've got to get this information out first," said Draco. "He could kill us all with a wave of his hand, and if this information isn't poised to bring down the administration, it will all have been for naught."

Tonks looked at the Potions Master seriously. "Severus, we each have places worked out — safe houses for ourselves and the information, and no one knows anyone else's locations. That way, if any of us are killed, only our own hideouts have been compromised. We've got to get this out first."

"But the rescue mission comes second," he said. "Anyone who is in, come back here once you've secured your information."

"It can't be safe here," said Kingsley reasonably, "They got to Dumbledore here."

"No, it's not," said Severus. "The wards were breached long ago... have been open to somebody since Harry was a student here."

"My gods," Ginny hissed. "Since he was a _student_. You know this started after the war."

"It started after that Ministry inquiry," Severus said. "You remember how nutty he got that night. _That_ was the beginning."

"Anyway, we can't meet here again," said Tonks, "And we don't know how little time we have. It's not safe to linger."

"Get the information out and meet back here," said Severus. "I'll take care of it." He paused to smirk, and added, "Unless, of course, I'm dead. If that's the case, you're on your own. But you're Aurors... I'm sure you'll think of something."

Draco clasped him on the back. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, hate to drop deadly national conspiracies in your lap and run, but we've got a busy day ahead of us."

XIXIX

Hermione got Remus to his quarters and went to fetch Spauna Toadings, the Charms Professor at Durmstrang. Spauna wasn't a Healer, but she knew more about werewolves than anyone else at the school — probably including Remus. It was vital that they kept a lid on the events of the night and all of their consequences. They could be killed or disappeared for having broken into the British Ministry of Magic. Their reach extended quite a long ways. Hermione thought they would be safe at Durmstrang, but only as long as they kept quiet. Any noise could be their undoing. She had certainly learned that the hard way. Merlin, she'd lost her husband and her parents, both, to the Ministry of Magic. She had no intention of letting her or Remus be next among the victims.

"Professor Weasley," said the sleepy older woman. "What is it?"

"I know it's early," she said. "I'm so sorry, but Remus is hurt. I need help."

That was all Spauna needed to know. She had cared for her werewolf sister for years. If help could be offered the man, Spauna was the one to do it. She threw on her teaching robes over her nightgown and followed Hermione through the hallways and into Remus' quarters. She found the man in a great deal of pain. His shoulder had taken the brunt of a blasting curse which had torn apart his flesh and cracked a good deal of bone. His shoulder blade, his clavicle, three ribs and his upper arm were all broken. But Spauna knew enough Healing magic to take care of that. She was able to set the bone in no time and mend the flesh. She bandaged the area with a strong healing salve underneath.

"It's going to be very tender," she said. "And fragile as well for a few days. I hate that you're going to transform like this. There's a good chance that the transformation itself is going to tear it all apart again. I'll want to monitor you tonight. I'll have your Wolfsbane ready in the afternoon. I'll check back in then."

"Thank you, Spauna," said Remus weakly. "I can always count on you to take care of me."

"And don't you forget it," she told him, with a fond pat on the head. "Oh, my sister would have loved you," she said. "Would have doted on you like a pup."

"I have no doubt of it," he said.

"Get some rest. It's still early." The sun was coming up, which they could see as the windows in Remus' quarters had reappeared now that night was falling away from this side of the world.

Hermione walked Spauna back to her quarters, thanking her profusely and apologizing again for bothering her at such an ungodly hour. She was pleased that Spauna had not asked any questions. And she never did. She merely gave Hermione instructions to take good care of him while he recovered, and reiterated her promise to see them that afternoon.

The Seer hurried back to her werewolf. He was not getting rest. He was sitting up on his bed and putting himself through a dreadful amount of pain in an attempt to pull on a shirt.

"What are you doing?!" She ran across the room to help him, gently taking over the task. "This is a dress shirt," she told him. "You don't need a dress shirt to sleep." But regardless of her words, she pulled it gingerly over his shoulder and began to button it up. Remus tried to push her hands away, but she persisted. Finally, he clasped both her hands in his, just before his chest. She was shaking something awful.

"Hermione," he said. "It's okay."

"Are you leaving?" she asked, looking into his eyes. And her fear took over her body; her trembling increased until she was no longer sure how she was still standing.

"I'm not leaving," he told her, but she did not relax.

"Why are you dressing if you're not leaving?"

Remus sighed. He looked away. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I can't imagine I'm much to look at — damaged and so near to the full moon. This is bloody awful timing. They'll be going after Harry and I... I've failed him again."

"No, Remus." Hermione pulled her hands free from his and placed them on his face, turning it back until their eyes were locked once more. "You've never failed him. You've always been there for him, every time it mattered. It mattered last night. He would have been trapped forever it you hadn't come with me last night. But now there's a chance..."

And now Hermione looked away. Because she had Seen a good number of things that might happen in the next twenty-four hours. And some of them involved Remus and not all of them were good, though some of them were wonderful. The truth was that she simply did not know what the future held. But as scared as she was, she felt satisfied in herself, in her Sight. She had saved her friends last night. And there _was_ a chance.

"Please don't leave," she whispered. "I'm so scared. I shoved aside all my fear last night because I had Seen it all. And I felt calm, even when I thought I might die..."

His hands were on her. One hand on her hip, one hand easing around to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. "You jumped in front of me," he rasped. "I thought I would lose you. Don't ever..." he choked, could not continue.

"I Saw you die," she said. "I wasn't calm then. I couldn't let it happen. Don't leave me, Remus. Everyone has left me."

And he pulled her closer, into his space, pawing on her, her shoulders, her arms, her hips, her hair, her neck, her back, needing to feel her, unable to stop himself now that she was so near, now that it was so near the full moon. He needed her. He _needed_ her.

"I will never leave you," he told her. "Hermione, I remember the first time I saw you. I knew nothing about you, but you held yourself so strong," and her body was almost flush against his, he sitting and she standing, "I was so impressed with you, have always been so impressed with you... so intrigued..." and his nose was in her hair and he breathed her in, "and once you grew, Hermione, I've been so in love with you."

He spoke into her neck, could feel her pulse against his lips, could feel the trembles in her body subside and start again as she drew deep breaths, feeling him move underneath her, drawing her closer and closer.

"That night," he said, now clawing at her, pulling at her clothing. If he were thinking he would never have come this far, would have gone no further, but Remus was so far beyond that. He couldn't stop now if Merlin himself had stepped in and commanded it.

"That night with Pettigrew, when I transformed and nearly killed you all... I heard you calling to me and I came. I came to you and you were human and I could have torn your apart with the need I felt. Hermione, I have never stopped needing you, have never stopped hearing your call. You echo through me. Your call is in my veins. I will never stop needing you. And I will never leave you."

Hermione gasped. His hands were on her bare flesh and she had hardly noticed the stripping of her clothing. Her hands were unbuttoning his shirt, undoing the world she had known as they undid the work she had just done to dress him.

"When you came to me," she said, "to find Harry when he very first disappeared... I knew then. I had a prophecy, and I knew then I was supposed to be with you. I don't know why I fought it so hard. I was always supposed to be with you."

_His shoulder was hurt. His shirt was undone. He was sweating and his breath was harsh. "Hermione," he said, and she shivered, afraid_.

"Hermione," he said, looking up at her. She held his eye and knew there was no going back. But Hermione understood something about fate now. And she was unafraid.

"Remus."

Careful of his bandages, she climbed onto him and joined her fate.

Unnoticed by either of them, someone padded softly away from the bedroom door, making their way quietly across the living room and exiting Remus' quarters, closing and locking the door behind.

XIXIX

Draco and Ginny left together, partners to the end. They apparated to the houses of various Ministry officials that they were fairly sure could be trusted to disseminate the information, and they buried it in the gardens of each home. A sensitive ward would be tripped like a landmine, calling notice to the buried treasure but protecting the identity of the Aurors. If they were caught, these trusted Ministry officials would not go down with them; they could not be connected back to Ginny and Draco.

They sent over thirty owls from three separate O.P. offices to newspapers and magazines across Britain and beyond. In one day's time, every major rag in Europe might possibly know what the renegade Aurors knew. It would then be up to each paper to decide what to do with that information.

They were just determining the best way to contact the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix when Ginny cried out and collapsed.

"Merlin! Ginny, what is it? What's wrong?"

Ginny ground her teeth and looked up at him, but then her eyes rolled back in her head. She seemed to be in extraordinary pain. Her hands twitched, then came up to her head, her nails digging into her scalp. Draco tried to pry them away when he saw blood beginning to gather about her fingernails.

It was Harry. Draco knew it was Harry because no curse had touched Ginny — they were entirely alone here in a safe house outside of Manchester. Draco's mind flew through the implications. If Ginny could feel Harry's pain, that meant that he wasn't "gone", wasn't currently under complete control of the Ministry. There might be a chance to get to him, but he could tell that Ginny was out of order as long as she remained connected with her twin.

The two magical twins had shut down their bond in the past, during the Final Battle. Harry had nearly gone insane from being cut off from his twin and would not leave her side for months afterwards... but he came through. They came through it. They would have to do it again.

"Ginny," he said, grabbing her face and trying to force her to look into his eyes, "Ginny, Harry needs you. Harry needs you to close down your bond so that you can function. We'll save him but you _must_ be able to function. Block the pain, Ginny. Block the pain."

She shook her head, her eyes wild. "I can't," she howled. "I won't leave him."

"Bloody hell."

Draco didn't know where Harry was or what he was doing — if he was mounting an offensive against Draco and the others, or if he was trying to escape. He didn't want to leave Ginny like this, but he didn't want to leave anything to chance either. He needed help. The simple fact was that he could not do this alone.

"_Silencio_." Ginny's moans fell silent. Next, Draco cast a cushioning spell on her fingertips so that she could not claw her scalp from her skull. He grabbed her and Side-Along Apparated to Durmstrang. Levitating his partner, he stormed through the hallways in search of Hermione and Remus. They weren't in Hermione's quarters, so next they tried Remus'.

The door was closed and locked, but Draco didn't have time for niceties like knocking, so he spelled the door open and barged on in.

"Hermione!" he called. "Remus! Gods, are you here?! Help, Ginny's hurt!"

He went about arranging his partner on the couch, summoning every pillow he could find in the room to him and trying to cushion her body on all sides. She was still grabbing at her head, and though silenced, he could tell she was still moaning in pain.

_Curse the years and baggage that had left her unwilling to do what she was able!_

It was uncommon for twins so close to be able to close their bonds to each other at will, and it was apparently uncomfortable for these twins to do so... but Draco knew it was more than that that kept Ginny firmly ensconced in Harry's pain. She blamed herself for all he had been through; she blamed herself for blaming him when the Ministry kept dragging him away to use him and experiment on him. She flat refused to leave him alone now that she knew the truth.

Draco could hear movement in the bedroom, and eventually Hermione and Remus emerged, both looking quite flustered and rumpled, as though they had only just thrown on their clothes. Draco didn't have to stop and think about what that signified, and he also didn't have time to stop and remark upon it.

"Something's going on with their bond," he told them. "Ginny can feel him; he's in a lot of pain. I don't know what's happening, so I don't want to _Stupify_ her."

Hermione was there in an instant, laying hands on the witch, closing her eyes and trying to See what was happening to her.

"I don't understand," she said finally. "They still have Harry... he's under their control, but... it's different somehow than every time before. He's aware — just slightly — but he doesn't know, doesn't comprehend... gods it's a mess. I'm sorry, I can't make sense of what I'm Seeing. But he's scared. He's trying to reach his twin. Ginny'll never block him out. He's scared and he needs her."

Draco nodded, not really understanding what Hermione was talking about, but understanding that the time had come to break Harry out of whatever oppression had been binding him all this time.

"Can you take care of her?" he said, nailing his eyes into Hermione's and then Remus'. They both nodded without hesitation. "I'm going to rendezvous with Severus and the others. We're going to get Harry. The Order's scattered to the four winds; the DA too. I know it's a long shot, but can you try a Galleon Call? We could use all the help we can get."

"I still have my galleon," she said, "But Draco, the chances that anyone just carries their galleon around with them after years..."

"I know. Just try it. It won't hurt, at least."

Draco was up and to the door. "Keep her safe," he told them, and then added, "If you don't see me again... will you find Persephone? Tell her... tell her I love her, and I'm sorry."

"You'll tell her," Remus said.

"But if I can't..."

"If you can't..." Remus nodded. "But you will."

XIXIX

Severus had roused the few faculty members still at Hogwarts over the holidays. New Year's Eve was dawning cold, but he, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout were hard at work on the snow-covered grounds. Since the wards of Hogwarts had been compromised years ago, and since there was no stopping a Harry Potter Weapon that was intent on breaking in, the four staff members went about setting up new wards. Encircling the school in a protective barrier, these wards would not keep anyone out, but they would slow them down.

If tripped, they would turn the grounds into a moat of sorts — a thick sludge of Weasley swampland that Filius had been practicing since the two twins escaped from the clutches of Headmistress Umbridge in a show of fireworks and noise. And to make it worse, if the wards were tripped, a voice would begin to recite every bit of information that had been stolen from the Ministry, growing louder and louder with each passing second until eventually the incriminating documents would be heard in London.

The trick was in the intention. As Severus was unsure as to who would rendezvous for their Harry Potter Rescue Mission, he figured it was best to leave the wards open for anyone who came with the intent to help, and tripped by anyone who intended to hinder.

When Draco arrived, the four faculty members were placing the finishing touches, weaving the wards together so that they encircled the school without a break.

"Something's happening to Harry," he told them, standing there in the cold by the lake. "Ginny's gone into a fit of some sort. Hermione says that they still have Harry, except that he's mildly conscious, and scared."

Severus made a face. "I read some of the research they were doing on him. He shouldn't be aware while they're controlling him — it's part of the magic that they're using. Like when the Tremor Moles call to the snakes, the snakes are not aware of their actions as they travel to their deaths."

Draco shook his head. "I can't explain it. But something is going on."

"Severus, look there!" squeaked Filius, pointing a long, shaking finger toward the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

Everyone turned and for a moment, Severus had a flashback of the Final Battle as he and a group of students battled their way into and through the Forest in order to rescue Ginny Weasley, in order to save Harry, in order to kill the Dark Lord once and for all. He saw movement through the trees, and then a lone figure shuffled through the snow and branches, breaking through and stumbling toward them.

It was a man, covered up by a scarf and a thin cloak, but not nearly dressed well enough for this weather. He was coming straight for them.

"Oh my gods," said Minerva, apparently recognizing him, though Severus didn't know how. She must have known his gait or the set of his shoulders because there were no more telling signs than that. Minerva tramped through the snow toward the figure. It was Draco who gasped next, and he hurried after her.

The others followed. Minerva cast a warming spell on the shuddering figure, and she and Draco removed the scarf that was bound so closely around his head. The telltale Weasley red brought everybody up short.

"Something terrible has happened," the man croaked.

He stumbled forward and Draco caught him, steadied him. "Ron, you're alive!"

But Ron pushed him off, impatient with such realizations. He continued on his way up to the castle. "Something terrible has happened," he repeated. "We have work to do."

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A/N: Yay! Another update, and more fun to come soon. I hope you all are enjoying this mad-dash to the finish. Let me heartily apologize for using movie canon with "the werewolf answers the call of his mate/ Hermione called Remus…" but, well, I thought it would be romantic. And also, it offset nicely with Ron hearing her call echo through him, from when she called him in the Final Battle but he killed Percy anyway. So, sorry for the slip in story, but it works out somehow.

As always, please review. And as always, I answer all signed reviews, so if you want a reply make sure to log in first. Much love, tangledhair


	32. Bound and Gagged

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XIX

XIXIX "Bound and Gagged" XIXIX

"Where have you been?" gasped Professor McGonagall.

"How did you find us here?" asked Draco.

"Why are you alive?" demanded Severus.

But Ron shoved off all of their questions as he burst into the school. "We don't have a lot of time," he said in a low voice. "I'll tell you what I can, but we must talk in a secure location or..."

"Or nothing," said Professor Trelawney, standing suddenly before them. She had a torch in one hand and a crystal ball in the other. "Follow me. Ronald, dear, it's so good to have you back with us. Hermione will be happy to see you."

She and Ron shared a long look and some sort of understanding passed between them. The others were left out of the silent conversation entirely, but Draco thought he might have caught the gist. Then Trelawney turned and began to walk down the hallway in a flowing sort of way, clearly attempting to add some air of mystery to an already dire situation. McGonagall rolled her eyes behind the woman's back, but followed her anyway. However, she nodded in approval when she realized where they were headed.

"Are you going to call Professor Jupiter?" she asked the Divination Professor.

Trelawney shook her head. "No, we have other business in the catacombs than calling your old Transfiguration Master. I believe it may be the only entirely secure location in the school... and... it will be useful for other things as well."

She left off with that mysterious statement, as they had arrived at their destination. Trelawney led the way with her torch, until they reached the cavernous room that had protected the youngest children during the Final Battle.

"I haven't been down here since the séance," said McGonagall.

Severus looked around. "I've never been here."

"That séance turned the tide of the Final Battle," said Draco. "We could sure use some back-up now. Are we going to call back the spirits of Hogwarts past today?"

Trelawney shook her head. "No, we're down here to talk just now. I believe Mr. Weasley has some explaining he'd like to do."

Ron nodded as Trelawney waved her wand. About three-fourths of several hundred candles lit themselves. Severus waved his wand to light the rest. They were strategically placed in a pattern that seemed familiar to him... like something he had learned about once long ago, though not something he had ever seen in person. But before he could inquire as to their placement, Ron had settled himself on the floor and begun speaking.

"Draco, you remember — and you too, Professor Snape — how we were researching about how to kill souls before the Final Battle."

Both men nodded.

"But we couldn't ever find anything. Draco, you told us about the myths and legends surrounding Dementors, and that eventually led to Harry figuring out that he was supposed to possess one and give Voldemort the Kiss."

Sprout, Flitwick, and Trelawney all gasped. Trelawney tried to play off her gasp as though she hadn't actually been surprised to hear it. But Flitwick had no such concerns.

"You say he _possessed_ the Dementor that gave You-Know-Who the Kiss?"

Ron nodded.

"But that's impossible!" gasped Sprout. "Mental magic on..."

"...magical creatures is impossible, I know," said Ron. "For normal wizards. I think we can all agree that Harry is not normal. But what very few people know," and here he looked to Severus and Draco, who both looked pained with the knowledge they now held, "is that thanks to Voldemort trying to kill him when he was a baby, Harry has some of Voldemort's magical essence tied in with his own, including a snake magic that Voldemort had assumed into himself during his experiments with immortality."

"We know this," said Severus impatiently.

"We didn't _all_ know this," muttered Flitwick.

"The Department of Mysteries knows this too," said Ron. "They have known since the Final Battle, and they suspected ever since our fifth year when Arthur Weasley was attacked by that snake in the Ministry of Magic. This may have been just fine, except that a research team that works with the Department of Mysteries but also with private and other government agencies were called in to work on this 'mystery of Harry Potter.'

"This group is power-hungry, with few morals and fewer still scruples. They hooked up with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and with Fudge and a bunch of other top officials, and they started experimenting. They came up with a few working theories of what they might be able to do in order to control the Great Harry Potter, and then what they might be able to accomplish with that control.

"When Harry went in to give his testimony about the Final Battle at the Ministry, they took control of him then. Magical creatures can control each other, do mental magic on each other and across species in a way that humans are incapable. But Harry's magic is part snake and there are plenty of animals that can control snakes completely. So this group of Unspeakables and war profiteers and power-hungry Ministry officials is using animal magic to control him."

"My gods," squeaked Flitwick. "They've got control over a mighty significant amount of power!"

"Harry's the most powerful wizard on the planet," agreed Sprout. "Far more powerful than You-Know-Who was, and think of all the horror he committed."

"But why didn't he stop it?" asked McGonagall.

"Or tell someone?" added Draco.

But Ron shook his head. "He can't. They set up a brain barrier in his head."

Severus covered his face with his hands. "Oh bloody Merlin, of course they did. That's why his thoughts are blocked entirely when he's under their control, even to his bondmates. Even to a Legilimens."

"Wait," said McGonagall, "A brain barrier like Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel have? But those are designed keep people from getting inside your head."

"They've altered this so that Harry can't get _out_," said Ron. "He's trapped in his thoughts. But Harry's clever, right? And powerful. So they added in a _pain deterrent_ as well, triggered by certain thoughts or intentions. If he plans on telling people certain things, or if he gets close to figuring something out, or thinks about what has been happening to him... the brain barrier actually _attacks _his thoughts, slicing him through with pain extraordinary enough to make his thoughts scatter."

"They've been torturing him with his own mind." Severus was grim.

McGonagall was in awe of the depths these people had sunk to. "Why would they do such a thing to Harry?" she breathed. "He's the savior of the wizarding world."

"Because Harry is the most powerful wizard on the planet. If they can control him, they can control everything. It's all about power." Draco was sure of this; he knew how politics worked. "Power and fear. And he _is_ the savior of the wizarding world. No one would ever suspect him to be behind... my gods... anything."

Ron continued. "That first summer when he started disappearing, they were using his power to circumvent the wards at Hogwarts. That way they'd still be able to reach him and control while he was in school without Dumbledore finding out who was getting past the wards and why. After that, they had control of Harry everywhere... almost any time they wanted him. Sometimes they would make him break through security of other governments. Sometimes would have him wreaking havoc. Harry Potter would actually be committing 'Death Eater attacks'."

"And Harry's the Weapon," Draco whispered.

"Yes. Locked inside his own brain, unable to stop himself. Not even sure what it is he's done, if anything."

"Oh my gods," gasped McGonagall with a realization. "He killed Albus Dumbledore?"

Ron, Draco, and Severus all looked away, all nodded. "Yes, but... you have to know it wasn't his choice or intention. Harry probably isn't even aware that he did it, or even that he might have done it. Dumbledore was always the weak link. He had brought the information about Harry to the Department of Mysteries. If he ever suspected anything was wrong, he would figure it out. One of Harry's triggers was the idea of going to Dumbledore for help. Dumbledore died because Harry must have realized that he was the only one who could save him, who could have stopped all of this."

The group fell into a moment of silence out of respect for the dead. Here, in the Hogwarts' catacombs, the truth behind the headmaster's death became complete. Severus stirred first.

"How do you know all of this? Have you been _working with_ this group?"

Ron was silent a moment more. Then, "Yes. But only after..." he scrubbed his hands over his face. "I had an idea while talking with Hermione. I was thinking about the Tremor Moles that time, and how they seemed to control Harry. So I went looking for information about possible controls and I found this file that I wasn't supposed to see. They disappeared me on that, but then they forced me to work on the project. I had a background in Dark animal magic, and plus I'd been friends with Harry...

"They kept watch on Hermione. They told me they'd kill her if I didn't go through with it. They Imperiused her parents into plotting to expose the wizarding world. Hell, they were probably halfway to deciding to do it anyway, but Angela and Dr. Monroe pushed the Grangers over the edge with it. Just to show me they could get to Hermione. And anyway, a Seer who is slowly going insane from grief is much less a threat than a war hero Seer who is well known for having her shit together. They wanted to destroy her mind, but in a "natural" way so that no one would suspect foul play. I just kept looking for a way to escape..."

"Oh no!" Draco pulled himself to his feet in a rush and was heading back to the school proper. "They're watching Hermione?! She and Lupin have Ginny!"

"I know," said Ron quietly. "I was there."

Draco stopped short. "You were there?"

Ron nodded, looked away.

Draco had a sinking feeling in his gut, remembering the state Lupin and Ron's wife had been in when he had left Ginny there with them.

"Did you see…?"

And from the look on Ron's face, he had.

"Ron, it's..."

"It's okay. They're safe for now. The Department of Mysteries have bigger problems on their hands than keeping an eye on a Seer they think is half crazy. They don't know who broke into the Ministry, but they know that a lot of really incriminating evidence has gotten out."

"We have names," said Draco, "Incriminating evidence that will get people all the way up the ranks to the Minister of Magic himself."

"Good, good. But we still need to stop them. They're reeling right now. I got out in the chaos. But... they'll use Harry to kill you all if they can. And if not, they're... they've got to eliminate their smoking gun."

"Harry."

"Yeah."

"Then Ginny will die too."

Ron closed his eyes. "Yes. But she's still conscious, right?"

"She is," said Draco. "But she's half out of it. She's connected to Harry right now, but he's in a sorry state and she can't keep her thoughts to herself. She's tied up with him inside their bond."

Ron sighed, nodded. "Good, it worked. I altered his brain barrier before I left enough, I hoped, so that the two of you, Severus, Harry's bondmates, would be able to find him."

"Why can't _you_ take us to him?"

"_I_ can't. The place is under the Fidelis Charm, and _Harry's_ the Secret Keeper. But you and Ginny can hopefully get through his brain barrier now, enough to get the secret from it even if he doesn't know that he knows it. It's there in his head. Severus, we'll need you to use Legilimency to find it. But Ginny's twin bond should be strong enough that she can reveal the location to the rest of us."

"And then what?" demanded Draco. "We go in there to bust Harry out, but they've still got him under their control! He'll kill us all before we have a chance..."

"No, not if we can break through the brain barrier. It's been keeping Harry from realizing he's an animagus. The controls they're using on him are all based on snake magic. But his animagus form is not a snake. They can't control him if Ginny can get him to shift forms."

Severus looked up sharply. "Harry's an animagus?"

Ron nodded. "He and Ginny both have the ability. They've never done it."

But Severus shook his head. "No. I forbid it. I saw Harry in the Final Battle when Ginny was under the Cruciatus Curse. He was a mess! And totally incapable of rational thought or magical control! If Ginny's even half as bad right now, we can't risk it. They could turn their organs inside out and Harry could still kill us all before they both die from it!"

"We don't have a choice, Professor," said Ron. "It's the only way to break the control. You'll have to do what you can to keep them both sane and capable. Get us in there. And get Harry transformed into his animagus form. We'll take care of the rest."

Severus was so white he looked as though all of the blood had drained out of his already pale face. They all looked around each other grimly, realizing the terrible stakes of this terrible mission. There were absolutely no guarantees that they would manage to rescue Harry, that they would manage to incriminate these corrupt officials, that they would live to see the new year dawn.

"It's got to be midmorning already," said Ron. "Everyone try to get a few hours sleep. They'll be scrambling today to figure out who broke in, figure out if they can have Harry kill you all before the truth gets out, or if they need to focus on covering their tracks and kill off their big Weapon. Do absolutely nothing public today. They'll have obliviation teams at the ready. We'll have until tonight at least before they kill Harry. But they'll be expecting a rescue mission. Whatever you all plan, expect an ambush."

Ron got up to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?" called Draco.

"I need to get in touch with some... people. Professor Trelawney, you can have everything set up?"

"If Minerva, Pomona, and Filius can help me, I can be ready by dawn."

"What...?"

Ron spoke over their questions. "I'll contact you at dusk. Don't..."

He stopped and looked around at them.

"Don't tell Hermione I'm alive. She... just don't."

And then he was gone into the darkness. In the torch and candlelight, Draco looked around at his former professors and started developing a plan. They were going to need reinforcements, that was for sure.

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A/N: Hey y'all, Happy Holidays. There are two more chapters left, and they'll be coming out together. As you know, my super-happy goal is to have Ties That Bind done by the end of the year. I have one day left. Luckily for me, though, I live in Hawaii at the very end of the day, so it might be 2008 where you're at, but still 2007 where I'm at. Or, I might not finish in time, in which case no excuses, just that I'll finish as soon as possible thereafter. Either way, I'll see you all again shortly. peace, kati


	33. Transformations

A/N : Done, and in time! Three hours to spare! Of course, it's possible that I'll re-read this tomorrow and make changes, but I promise they'll only be minor aesthetic things. So hold off if you want the prettiest version – but the ending of these last two chapters will stay basically the same. Enjoy! It's done!

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XIXIX "Transformations" XIXIX

Sleep did not come easily this day, despite the long night they had come from and the long night that still lay ahead. They put up only a token effort to rest. Severus worked on brewing stimulant potions, Draco planned their attack, and the other professors were busy preparing the catacombs for when they would be needed again (with any luck) in the coming dawn. By the time Tonks and Kingsley arrived at the rendezvous, Draco had already written them off as dead, disappeared, or Obliviated. He was quite relieved when they arrived in Severus' quarters.

In the afternoon, Tonks and Kingsley were gone again to contact as many members of the Order of the Phoenix as possible. Severus ensured that McGonagall had Hogwarts secure and under control, and then he and Draco left for Durmstrang. It was best to draw attention away from the school. The catacombs should be secure for preparations, but it was best if no suspects were anywhere near Hogwarts this day.

Durmstrang was unplottable and was far outside of any claim to control by the British Ministry of Magic, which gave it a slight edge as staging area for the coming night. As the final hours of the year ticked by, the numbers inside the school grew. Order members arrived by direction of Tonks and Kingsley. Surprisingly, more than a handful of DA members responded to the Galleon Call. Luna and Crabbe were the first to arrive, followed shortly by Lavender and Parvati. They gathered closely around Hermione and Remus, who were doing their best to care for Ginny. But Ginny was so far out of it she hardly seemed to be aware of their presence. No one could draw her out of the twisted tangle of her tortured bond to Harry.

"But at least she's still connected to him," said Draco. "As long as she can maintain the link, there's hope we can get through to him."

Severus snarled at him, his nerves on edge. "Ms. Weasley is of no use to us if she is unaware of her part in this plan. You people have got to get through to her!"

"We're trying, Professor," said Lavender in a tone that was somewhere between patience and exasperation. "How did you get through to Harry when he was like this?"

Severus sighed with defeat. "Through out bond. This is hopeless."

"I got through to him, too," snapped Draco, "And without being bonded to him."

"Some other type of connection," mused Hermione absently. "Where are all the Weasleys?"

"Tonks sent word," said Draco. "They're being watched, but they've heard. They'll be here when..."

"...we can get here. Keep your panties on." George bounced in, followed by his twin. They made a beeline for their sister. After being filled in on the situation, they got to work on trying to rouse Ginny into consciousness. They tickled her, threatened pranks, even pleaded, but Ginny remained immune to their presence.

Charlie was the next Weasley to arrive. His attempts were similarly fruitless. When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, Molly gathered her daughter up into her arms and arranged her in her lap. She petted her and cooed at her, calling her with the love only a mother could give. Ginny stirred into the embrace. The tension on her face relaxed somewhat, and she truly seemed comforted. But she also held tight to her flailing twin bond.

The door banged open and someone elbowed their way through the growing crowd. A squat witch inserted herself into the situation with a motherly determination that made Molly proud.

"It's nearly dusk!" snapped Spauna Toadings. "Remus, have you lost your mind? All these people here and you haven't taken your potion yet!"

She thrust a goblet under his nose. Severus looked over in interest, then leaned down and sniffed at the Wolfsbane. He looked up at the woman with respect, and nodded his approval. She looked him square in the eye, a challenge, but then her gaze softened.

"You're Severus Snape," she said, "The one that made the Wolfsbane for Remus before he came here." And then, as Remus took the goblet in his hands and drained it, Spauna Toadings rushed the Potions Master and pulled him into a strong embrace.

"Thank you for taking care of him for so long. Anyone that works for the well-being of werewolves is all right by me!"

Severus opened his mouth to compliment the woman's own abilities, but was cut off when an alarm ripped through the school.

"Shit!" said Draco. "They found us here. We've got to get Ginny to safety. She's the only one who can get us to Harry."

Krum was at the door. He scanned the crowds and then yelled, "Spauna! Come, vee can draw them off to the Black Lake." He pointed at Remus, but shouted to everyone, "Vait for the explosion! Go tovard the mountains to the safe house I showed you!"

Remus nodded. "Get Ginny, follow me!"

Crabbe was the biggest among them, and not content to leave to magic what brute strength could accomplish just as easily, especially not in the midst of so much chaos. With his wife on one side, and Mrs. Weasley on the other, he picked Ginny up in his substantial arms and cradled her like a baby. The crowd surged through the halls, following Remus deeper and deeper into the school.

At the front of the school, Krum, Spauna, and Headmaster Vallent strode out toward the invading forces. None of them quailed to realize it was dozens of witches and wizards in Death Eater robes. They had all seen far worse during the war, and had all been briefed on the current state of the British Ministry's War on Death Eaters. They knew these people were just as likely to be Ministry stooges as anyone, and that if Harry Potter was among them, they were all dead anyway. Their best shot was to draw these frauds away so the others could escape and hopefully rescue the Dark Lord's conqueror.

They were halfway across the lawn when Spauna waved her wand behind her back, charming several dozen bushes into the illusion of human forms, all moving toward the Black Lake. Headmaster Vallent then called control of their Great Ship. It rose from the water as though meeting the illusions to offer escape.

The Death Eaters ignored the three nobodies, hurried instead toward the great swarm of movement. The Headmaster and the Charms Professor ran after them, casting all manner of spells to impede their progress, doing anything to keep the "Death Eaters" from reaching "the escaping renegades" at the Black Lake. Krum summoned his broom and hopped on, flying over the crowd and casting curses from above, masked in the growing darkness, as swift in his flight as he was in his spellcasting. A stream of white fog trailed behind him with each breath into the icy winter air.

Professor Wyrmwuld, the Potions Master, appeared with a device of his own invention which could spray potions over vast areas. He had chosen FloraGrowth for the occasion, which he had developed in conjunction with their Herbology Master who was currently vacationing in Madagascar. He sent FloraGrowth spray all over the crowd of Death Eaters, and more importantly, over the land on which they trod. Grass and roots and vines and weeds exploded from the frozen earth, twining over intruders, grabbing at them and slowing them down while they fired burning and impediment hexes into the foliage.

A young man ran up behind Spauna and Vallent, shouting, "Wait, wait! Where's Hermione? Where's Ginny?"

Spauna reeled on the interloper, her wand raised, but she froze. A red raven flew down and circled the man, then flew off in the direction of the mountains.

"My gods," whispered Spauna, lowering her wand. "Young man, follow that bird! He'll take you to them!"

The man turned and left, following the oddly colored raven which flew ahead, stopped on a branch, and flew on further, leading him around the side of the school and down a dark path heading toward the mountains. He trudged through seemingly undisturbed snow, could barely follow the path as blocked as it was by frozen snarls of branches. He was quite sure he would be hopelessly and utterly lost were he not following this animal familiar. But soon, just as the mountains loomed large, they arrived at a small building concealed in the snow and trees.

He burst through the doors and found himself at the business end of several dozen wands.

"Neville!" Hermione threw her arms around him, her eyes squeezed shut in happiness. The red raven flew past her, unseen by the Seer. It came to land on Severus' shoulder, who recognized it almost immediately.

"We can't wake Ginny," he told the bird.

"Did you cover your tracks, Neville?" asked Draco.

"Uh... no," he said, glancing over his shoulder, angry at his mistake.

"How many are there?" asked Remus.

"Too many. And the grass won't hold them for long."

Without stopping to inquire what that statement might mean, Draco turned on the Weasleys. "We haven't time! You've got to rouse Ginny and get her into Harry's head!"

"What's wrong with Ginny?" Neville demanded, pushing through the others.

"Harry. She's tied in with him in their bond, but his location is protected by the Fidelius Charm. Harry's the Secret Keeper. If we can get through to her, we can get to Harry and save him from this mess."

Neville dropped to his knees before the young woman who was arranged once again in Molly Weasley's lap. He ran his fingers over her face, brushing her long hair away from her eyes. "Ginny?" he said, "Can you hear me?"

Ginny shifted, groaned.

"Ginny, come back. We need you."

Her eyes blinked open. They were crossed, but she was back. "Neville?"

"I'm here."

"Harry needs me," she murmured.

"I know. And we need you to go to him, get in his head. He's the Secret Keeper for his location. If you can get the Secret, we can all go there and get him. Can you do this?"

She groaned loudly. Her eyes rolled back in her head. And then Severus was there, kneeling beside Neville. He took Ginny's hand in his own.

"Ms. Weasley, I'm here too. We'll go together. I can help you find the Secret, but you're his twin. You're the only one that can reveal it to the rest of us. Do you understand?"

"Ginny," said Neville softly, his mouth close to her ear. "Ginny, we're here with you. We need your help to save Harry."

She squeezed Severus' hand. "Come," she said to him. "I can do it." But then she cried out. She turned wild eyes, for one brief moment, to Neville. "Stay with me," she pleaded. And then she was gone again.

This time, Severus went with her.

"Shit," said Draco from the door. "They're on their way. Point, front! We've got to hold them off!"

"There!" shouted Severus. "Ms. Weasley, do you see it?"

She groaned.

The front porch exploded. The Order members in the front of the safe house were thrown back, but found their footing soon, hurling hexes into the darkness beyond. Stray curses flew through the front ranks, blasting apart the room beyond. Part of the ceiling collapsed and the freezing night air poured through — along with light from the newly risen moon.

"Oh no…"

Remus' face filled with the dread he experienced every month. His eyes glinted a strained yellow and his body began to shift.

"Ms. Weasley, do you see it?!" Severus snarled beyond him.

"Come on Ginny," whispered Neville. "Tell us where Harry is."

There was a loud _BOOM!_ and massive amounts of foam exploded in front of the house. The Weasley twins gave each other a high five as a rainbow of puffy sludge spread out and over the attacking forces. Almost immediately, ice crystals began to form around its edges.

"Look! It's so cold out it's already starting to freeze!"

But a blasting curse flew right through it and completely destroyed the front door to the safe house.

Remus snarled, howling piteously as he transformed. His newly mended bones and flesh were torn apart again under the strain. His claws flew out and he flailed dangerously like the wounded animal he was, gnashing his horrible teeth at the rescue team that were trapped inside with him.

"Remus no! Remus! Remus, look at me!"

Hermione fell to her knees before him and he snapped at her once before very suddenly falling silent and still. The transformation complete, he nuzzled his head into her chest, whimpering through his pain. The Seer set to work with Healing spells, rubbing his head and his back soothingly. Lavender stepped forward timidly.

"Is he..."

"He's had his potion," said Hermione. "It's just..."

There were screams at the front. The safe house was on fire.

"Come on, Ginny, talk to me," said Neville, more urgently. He had both hands on her face. "Talk to me. Tell me the Secret."

The front brigade were falling back as foam-covered Death Eaters pressed into the now burning structure. Curses and hexes were flying with terrifying speed.

"Come on, Ginny, love. Come back to me."

"Neville," she gasped. And then her eyes opened wide. Louder, she cried out, "Harry Potter is imprisoned at the Nefastus House near Stonehenge!"

For a moment, the chaos of the room seemed to freeze beneath his proclamation. The Secret was out. The rescue was at hand.

"Apparate to Stonehenge!" yelled Severus. "Its magic will hide our numbers!" He pointed down at Ginny. "Bring her."

And then he was in the front, blasting his way through multicolored foam-covered Death Eaters, breaking apart their attack. Draco was at his side, along with Tonks and Kingsley, Charlie and the Weasley twins. The renewed force of Severus' desperate and furious attack quickly turned the tides in this small battle. Behind them, the others began to apparate away.

"Remus," said Hermione, "I'm going to side-along apparate you."

"You can't bring him!" squealed Lavender.

"I'm not leaving him!" shouted Hermione, just before she and the werewolf popped out of existence.

When most of the rescue team had gone, Severus grew fearful – time was growing short. Harry's captors could release Harry to kill them all at any second, or kill him instead to cover their tracks... his heart clenched with the idea of a life without Harry Potter. He couldn't face it. He aimed his wand above and collapsed the burning ceiling on the remaining Death Eaters.

"Let's go."

And they were gone.

Severus nearly staggered under the weight of the magic coursing through the area when he landed at Stonehenge, and he understood why this place was chosen to hide Harry. Just as the large amount of magic would obscure any system tracking the number of people apparating in, so too would it obscure attempts to locate a magical stronghold powerful enough to imprison Harry Potter. But what had been working in Monroe and Fudge's favor would now be working against them. The rescue party had arrived, apparently, unnoticed.

"Where is the Nefastus House?" demanded Draco, panting from the battle, from his anxiety.

Even as he said it, a gigantic mansion sprung into view on the far side, just on the edge of the field of magic that encompassed this ancient and powerful area. The group lost no time, moving through the darkness of the cold night. The red raven flew up ahead, disappeared from view. When they arrived, they found that the front gate of the perimeter was open. The red raven was perched atop it. It flew on ahead and they followed.

"We can't go in through the front door," hissed Hermione.

"He said expect an ambush, whatever we do," said Draco. "We may as well go in through the front door... they'll probably expect that least."

Hermione peered at him through the darkness, her hand resting on the shoulder of the wolf at her side. "Who said?"

"Nobody." He turned to see Crabbe and Luna behind him, with Ginny. Neville held her hand and Severus stood sentry. The other Weasleys pushed forward.

"We're going first," said Fred.

"We can draw off an attack," said George.

"Find Harry," agreed Charlie.

And before anyone could say a word, Molly and Arthur had blown in the front door and were running into the house, flinging curses in rapid-fire. The other Weasleys and several Order members ran in after them. The battle inside was in full swing even before Draco could enter with Harry's bondmates.

They walked into a sprawling entrance hall, cloaked in darkness. Passages wound off in every direction, and three separate stairwells (two up and one down) opened up before them. It seemed as though the current battle had pressed back through two of the dark passages to the right. Draco and Severus surveyed their options.

"Which way?"

Luna stepped in front of them, looking around. The red raven was resting on her shoulder. She was nodding thoughtfully as she looked around. Then she turned back to Draco and Severus. She pointed up to the staircase on the left that led to the upper floors.

"Up there, then down the hall to the end. The wards will be a pain in the arse, and there are more Death Eaters laying in wait. These ones are Aurors, so they're well-trained. That's where Harry is. I'm going this way. And I'll need help."

She pointed to the staircase that led into the bowels of the mansion.

"What's down there?" asked Vince, already handing Ginny off since he had no intention of leaving his wife to go down a dark staircase by herself. Neville took up his charge.

"Their other prisoners. They'll help."

"How do you know this?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"A little birdie told me." Indeed, the bird took off in flight down the staircase below. "Go get Harry," she said, and then she was gone. Vince followed her close behind, trailed by Lavender and Parvati.

Tonks and Kingsley took front point and the remaining team headed up the staircase to the left. There was a horrible rumbling sound from below, and Severus was quite sure one of the hallways on the main floor had just caved in under the force of the battle of Weasleys already in progress.

The werewolf was just behind Tonks and Kingsley. It stopped suddenly, sniffing the air, his fur bristling.

"Someone's up ahead," whispered Hermione, and as she said it Tonks and Kingsley threw up shields under this newest attack. The corridor was filled with green light. The rescue team flung themselves into the heat of the battle. Already they could tell the goal. The door at the end of the hallway was pulsing with magical wards. There wasn't anything getting through that door even without its guards.

And the guards seemed to come out of the woodwork. More and more and more Death Eaters appeared, and Luna just may have been correct. This group seemed far better trained than those they had defeated at the safe house. They just might be Aurors, all of them. Tonks, Kingsley, and Draco battled like rabid wolverines, snarling with disgust and fury as they hurled their magic at the Death Eater guards.

Kingsley went down first. And then Tonks was on her knees. Below them came the sounds of rapid-fire explosions, and Severus was sure the house would collapse under whatever had just happened. But then he saw it — a flash of light from beyond the guards... the wards on the door had dropped. The guards noticed it as well; their attack grew shaky and sporadic.

"We're all doomed!" shouted one of them.

"Keep fighting, Bryde, you coward!" yelled another.

A growling murmur began to sound, from very far away. It sounded like a tornado heading their way, from inside the house. And louder it grew... a cacophony terror, moans and groans and wails. And now a stampeding of fury behind them.

Slowly, as though suspended in time, Severus turned around. Neville stood beside him, with Ginny in his arms. He turned as well, the same gobsmacked expression on his face that Severus imagined was on his own. Luna was running toward them, her wand held high like a beacon of light in the midst of a teeming mass of Darkness. Indeed, all around and behind her were a horde of ravenous Dark creatures — vampires and mummies and werewolves and acromantula and thestrals.

Severus didn't know how he knew it, perhaps it was seeing Luna there in the midst of them, but he knew in his gut that these creatures were out for blood... just not theirs. He threw himself against Neville and Ginny, flattening them against the wall. The others of the rescue team followed suit, getting the hell out of the way as these Dark captives turned on their captors. They attacked the Death Eater Aurors with something like bloodlust.

The red raven landed on Severus' head and cawed at him, then took off down the hallway above the chaos and toward the now un-warded door at the end.

"Come on!" Severus yelled above the mayhem. "We've got to get Harry."

They pressed cautiously, though quickly, through the insanity. Severus flung the door open and was blasted backward before he could even raise his wand. Inside this inner sanctum, they could see all manner of experimental equipment — potions and chains and pieces of animals that had been half-transformed from one creature to another. Angela Diamond stood with Dr. Monroe, there in this demented room, this center of corrupted control. They were surrounded by another twenty Death Eaters. And there in the middle of all of this, magically bound to what looked like an upright operating table... was Harry!

His aura was spread out around him — a turbulent jumble of colors. Silvery rune shapes danced about through this essence, stabbing through it, impaling his very soul. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and he was twitching in what seemed to be an extraordinary amount of pain.

"They're all here!" shouted Angela. "Raise him now! Send him after them!"

Monroe raised his wand, pointing it at Harry, but in that moment, Remus had caught sight of Harry through the throng. He opened his substantial mouth and released a howl that launched a well of panic and anguish through every human in proximity. In the next moment, he had burst into the room and was attacking, attacking everything with the feral insanity of an uncontrolled werewolf. He may as well have not taken the Wolfsbane potion for all of the human consciousness he was capable of at this moment. He would kill them, kill them all for what they were doing to his pup. No one and nothing would stop him.

The Death Eaters were hurling curses left and right at this beast, but they seemed to bounce off of him unheeded. Monroe raised his wand to Harry in a panic, but Draco had come into the fray now. He tried to Stupify the man, but Monroe countered. Angela raised her wand to Harry next, but Hermione stepped in the way, wrapping herself bodily around her best friend. The spell hit her instead, had no effect at all.

An arm hit her back; she turned around and saw that it was not connected to a body. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. She looked up in horror to see Remus tearing apart everything in his path, making his way toward where she stood with Harry.

'This may be the end,' she thought, remembering her vision.

She stood beside Harry who was strapped to a vertical table, barely conscious. Witches and wizards battled all around them. Draco. Severus. Hermione stood calm with her terror, her arms encircling Harry as best they could. The werewolf tore about the room, ripping people to shreds within seconds. Then it turned on her. Hermione knew they may all die here today if she did nothing. She opened her mouth to call…

Hermione accepted it, accepted it all. This night would end one way or another. And life may end for her, but if it did, it was only how it was fated to be.

Remus tore into the man before her, ripped him in half and turned on her and Harry. Hermione was unafraid as she stared at him. She was, after all, fated to be with him for the rest of her life. If this was the rest of her life, so be it. She opened her mouth, and called...

Her soft keen split through the room like a balm to the insanity. Remus fell still before her, blinked at her with human awareness, and then his howl joined hers. Unnoticed by either of them, Angela Diamond turned her wand on the werewolf, opened her mouth.

"Avada—aaah!"

The red raven attacked her at a dive, ripping the flesh of her hand, breaking her forefinger off in its beak. Angela screamed as it flew off. She raised her bleeding and broken wandhand toward the bird.

"Ronald Weasley, I'll kill you!" she howled.

Hermione looked up at the bird in shocked realization, then turned her fury on Angela. Before the woman had a chance to summon her magic to curse the flying animagus, Hermione had blasted her across the room. She crashed into a shelf that held several hundred vials of potions and landed in a heap amidst the broken glass and draining liquids.

Draco cried out and fell to his knees beneath the wand of Dr. Monroe and the two remaining Death Eaters who had joined his battle. Severus stumbled in behind him, haggard and furious as he gazed at his imprisoned bondmate. His left hand held someone back behind him. He turned his wandhand on Dr. Monroe. A purple bolt of light shot out of his wand, grabbed up Monroe and flipped him through the air, spinning him like a top until he crashed into the mess of potions where Angela lay. Neville peered out from behind him, but still Severus held him back out of the room and in the relative safety of the hallway teeming with Dark creatures.

Suddenly, Ron was standing there, hurling curses at the last two Death Eaters. Severus lurched forward. His leg was broken, but he remained upright enough to get to Harry. He fell against his bondmate.

"Longbottom!" he barked. Neville came forward, bringing Ginny along with him. He stood her up against her twin on the table, and suddenly, Ginny's aura glowed outside her body as well. The silvery runes that had been tearing at Harry appeared around her just the same, though they were more ethereal, like a ghost or an echo of the runes that were attacking Harry, holding him hostage. Neville held her upright, held her against her imprisoned twin.

Severus grabbed Harry's head in his hands and turned it toward him, locking their eyes together. Their noses were bent, pressing into each other. Their foreheads smashed together.

"Harry," Severus snarled. And he forced his _self_ through their bond and into his bondmate.

"You have a brain barrier, Harry," Severus growled into the younger man. Pain sliced through Harry as he thought of it, and all three bondmates cried out from the pain.

"You can tear it down, Harry!" Severus groaned. "Tear it down. Let us through. Destroy that god-forsaken brain barrier prison!"

Harry groaned. Severus pressed into him further. Ginny moaned next to them, turned further into her twin.

"We're here, Harry," said Severus. "You can do it. Break out of your prison."

Harry's groans grew louder as he struggled through the turmoil, through the bindings in his mind. Louder and louder they grew, joined then by Severus and Ginny both until they were all nearly screaming under the force of it. Remus howled beside them.

And suddenly Harry's hands were on Severus' head as well. They held their heads together, their eyes locked, their nails digging into each other's scalps, their faces smashing into each other. And then the runes exploded outward, like shards of glass. But they went right through the others, slicing outward with no more force than vapor. And then they were gone.

"Severus! Ginny!"

The three bondmates clung to each other, screaming and moaning and crying. Ron stepped up, pulled them apart.

"You have to transform," he said. "Transform now. Angela and Monroe aren't the only ones who can control Harry. If you change into your animagus forms it will neutralize their hold."

"Do it now," agreed Severus, sending the theory and process to Harry, who sent it on to Ginny.

The twins looked to each other, cried out in tandem, "Animagus!" and disappeared.

The house shook under the force of the magic expended, breaking apart every binding and control that had locked the Great Harry Potter into unknowing servitude with the snake magic that was now overridden. An ugly gray miasma coursed out of his body, escaping in a rush that knocked everyone off their feet. The air swirled with growing force, spinning around the room in a torrent as strong as a hurricane. Papers and equipment and people were thrown about like trash. And then all at once, it was over.

In the middle of the room stood a great lion. His black fur shimmered like it was gilded. He eyes shone out a beautiful emerald green. Beside him was a majestic lioness with sleek copper fur. Draco looked up from his place on the floor and coughed.

"I should have known," he moaned, flinging his arm over his face with extreme dramatics.

The lioness nudged him with her head. He petted her fondly.

"M'lady," he said. "Oh great King and Queen of Gryffindor."

Outside they heard the rumbling of explosions. Hermione looked out the window fearfully, but then smiled. "Fireworks," she said.

"It's New Year's!" hollered the Weasley twins, bouncing into the room with their mum between them. "And we won! We rescued Potter!"

"Oh my!" screamed Molly. "Arthur! Arthur, it's Ron! He's alive!"

And now a teeming mass of Weasleys attacked their youngest brother and son, smothering him with love and affection.

Severus dropped to the floor; his leg was destroyed, was killing him. Harry sauntered up to him in his lion form, pressed his head against his bondmate, who wrapped his arms around his neck, pressed his face into his fur, and cried out his relief.

"Thank gods your free, Harry."

The rescuers swarmed, hugging and cheering. It was, indeed, time for celebration.

XIXIX

XIX

X


	34. Cleaning Up

X

XIX

XIXIX "Cleaning Up" XIXIX

Ron instructed Harry and Ginny that they must stay in their animagus forms until they got back to Hogwarts and into the catacombs. He was all business despite the celebration and the reunion with his family, demanding to the others that they were not quite out of the woods yet.

But the mood was too high. They had rescued Harry. They had destroyed the corrupted control of the powerhouse that had been driving everything wrong with the Ministry since the war. They had won!

Back at Hogwarts, the Weasley twins found a store of Weasley Wizard Wheezes fireworks they had left behind during their escape from school. And in grand Weasley fashion, they conducted a party, sending out notices all over Wizarding Briton that Fudge's reign of terror was over.

Draco, Tonks, and Kingsley got straight to work. They didn't pause to party, nor to sleep — though it had been a couple days since they had managed that. They collected their incriminating evidence. They collected trusted members of the Aurors and of the Ministry of Magic. And they collected everyone who was implicated with the incriminating evidence they had procured, and carted them off to Azkaban.

"Too bad Red couldn't be here to see this," barked the gruff Sergeant Grungle.

"Yeah," agreed Draco. "But she's busy with far more important things right now."

By dawn, word was out. Everyone knew what had happened during this most spectacular New Year's Eve. Draco was back at Hogwarts, where everyone who was anyone… was. The press was swarming. Hogwarts students and parents and alumni and friends had surged into the school to celebrate yet another victory against the forces of evil and corruption.

Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel arrived early on this New Year's Day. Minerva McGonagall greeted them and led them down into the catacombs where they could get to work on ensuring the continued safety of the wizarding world. As soon as they entered the catacombs, a surge of sweeter emotions burst forth — first from them, and second from the two lions that greeted them.

"Oh, my Harry," cooed Perenelle, hugging the animal closely. "Ron found us last night. He told us everything. But don't you worry about a thing. We'll set up some superbly strong brain barriers for you and Severus and Ginny. No one will ever be able to hurt you again, no matter what animal magic is in your body."

XIXIX

Hermione stayed with Remus until he transformed back into his human body. She had to recast the healing spells one more time, and she knew that his shoulder would never be as strong after shattering three times in two days. He was in a lot of pain, but she helped to soothe him until he slept. Then she rejoined the rest of the celebration at Hogwarts.

She found Draco waiting in the entrance hall by the door. He was staring out over Hogwarts grounds expectantly.

"Waiting for someone?" she said.

Draco beamed at her. "Oh yes. She should be here shortly, too."

And almost in response to his excited expectation, an absolutely gorgeous young woman appeared at the end of the drive, cloaked in Slytherin green. Draco was not as warmly dressed, but paid the weather no mind. He ran out toward the woman, not stopping until he had her in his arms. He swung her around and kissed her fiercely.

"Oh, Persephone!" he breathed, holding her close. "I didn't know if I would ever see you again."

"Draco, is it true?! I've heard so many stor..."

"I'm so sorry, love. I couldn't tell you. I didn't want to put you in danger."

"Merlin," she said, swatting at him playfully, though her eyes held hurt and fear and relief. "That's why you wanted to marry me before Christmas. Oh gods," she said, hugging him tightly again. "You could have been killed."

"Persephone," he said, pulling away, and falling to his knees there in the snow. "Will you marry me?"

"We're already engaged," she informed him with a stupid lovesick grin.

"Yes, but now I'm sure I'm in love with you. I thought I should ask again."

Draco's fiancée burst into tears and flung herself onto him in an entirely un-Slytherin way. They both lost their balance and fell over into the snow, sprawling happily, giggling with the joy of a newly engaged couple.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she watched on. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Ron standing beside her. She smiled warmly at him, and then threw her arms around him in a decidedly Gryffindor show of affection.

"Gods it's so good to see you," she said, tears already streaming down her face.

Ron hugged her back tightly, burying his face in her hair. "I missed you so much," he whispered. "But I knew I'd see you again one day. It's the only thing that kept me going sometimes."

"Ron..."

"No, Hermione, don't worry. I know about you and Remus. I'm not here to get in the way."

"But..." They pulled away and looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you," she said.

"And I love you. But I never could make you happy like he can. I don't think we were meant for each other that way. And our marriage was dissolved when I was declared dead. There is nothing to stop you from being with the man you are fated to be with. Not even me," he grinned.

Hermione threw her arms around him again, and Ron hugged her back with all his might. "You're my best friend," he told her. "That will never, ever change."

XIXIX

It took a month for the brain barrier ritual to be completed down in the catacombs. Once it was, Harry, Severus, and Ginny were very thoroughly protected from any sort of influence, control, or prying that could possibly come from anyone outside of their bonded triangle. The three rejoined wizarding society to a turmoil of trials and investigations. Minister Fudge, Angela Diamond, and Dr. Monroe, among many, many others, were implicated in a sickening web of corruption, marred further by the Imperious curse, extortion, and war profiteering. They had all benefited greatly from this War on Death Eaters that they had created and perpetuated with the use of Harry as a Weapon.

Ginny and Draco, along with Tonks, Kingsley, and Grungle, were assigned to the team of Investigators that would be sorting out this whole mess. While this went on, an interim government was appointed by the Wizengamot. Aberdeen Abernathy, the new Minister, was a highly ethical man who had never risen very high due to his lack of desire to climb to the top. But right now, he was just what was called for.

Harry was available for the investigations, for the trials. He wanted to be accessible by the public so they could know what had happened and that they would never have anything to fear from him again. But all the same, he shied from the spotlight. The last thing he wanted was to gain any amount of political power that might lead to him becoming corrupted as his captors had become corrupted. He was quite happy having absolutely no political power at all.

But he worked closely with Draco and Ginny and the others. They made a great team, and they worked very hard to put the past firmly behind them.

Draco and Persephone planned on a June wedding. Draco asked Severus to be his best man, and Harry to be one of his groomsmen. Ginny and Neville finally found their way together. Neville transferred to a position in London with the largest greenhouse in the UK. Hermione and Remus were quietly bonded with little fanfare. Only close friends were present. Ron brought Lavender Brown as his date, and stood in for Hermione's father who would never recover the memory of his only daughter. Harry stood in as Remus' best man.

As a wedding present, Harry presented Remus with the deed to the Black House. And finally, Remus accepted it.

Harry moved into Hogwarts. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position was open once again, so he stepped in. McGonagall offered him his own quarters, but Harry refused. He had nightmares now, haunted by the re-forming memories of everything he had done while under the control of the Ministry, haunted by memories of the war, memories from Voldemort, memories from the Dementor he had possessed. He had only ever felt entirely safe with Severus, and now that he was back with his bondmates, he intended to stay.

Severus pulled out the pensieve and set it on the table before them. He sat with his shoulder pressed against Harry's, close by his side.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know if this is such a good idea," he said. "I mean, yes, these memories are horrible, and I shouldn't have to be responsible, even in my head, for what happened while I was under their control, but..."

"You don't want to lose Mala Suerte."

"Among other things," agreed Harry. "But yeah, she's the most important part. I don't think there is anyone else who knows her enough to miss her."

"What are you going to do with her house?"

Harry shrugged. "I was thinking about creating a shrine to her… to the kindest person I've ever met in my life."

"Then do it."

"I don't think I could live there, though," Harry added.

Severus glared at him. "I'd like to see you try."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not leaving again. You know that."

"Again," drawled Severus, "I'd like to see you try."

Harry smiled. "You never gave up on me. During all of that time, all those years... and I treated you so horribly."

"I should have helped you," said Severus bitterly. "I should have figured out what was wrong." But Harry shook his head.

"You couldn't have known. They made it so that you wouldn't ever know. But... gods, I tried to break our bond. Several times! And still you held on."

Severus leaned closer, reached out and grabbed Harry's hand. "And I will never let you go. I will never give up on you."

Harry shifted, felt contented in the security of his bondmate. He was ready to start anew. He looked down to the pensieve and drew a deep breath. The fireplace flared just then and Ginny stepped in. She settled down beside them, pulling off her cloak and getting comfortable without invitation.

"You weren't thinking of starting without me, were you?" she asked.

"Never without you," said Harry.

The bondmates came together and sorted through the worst of their struggles, holding onto each other with the love and attention one offers only the most important aspects of life.

And together, they created a new future and a better life.

Fin.


End file.
